


Beneath the Masks

by burningtoashes



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Ultimate Talents (Dangan Ronpa), Character Death, F/F, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Team Bonding, persona 4 au, yes Mahiru is Shuichi's mom I don't know what to tell you, yes there's two Chiakis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 53,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningtoashes/pseuds/burningtoashes
Summary: When Shuichi Saihara moves in with Detective Hajime Hinata and his young daughter for the year, he doesn't expect much to happen. He's too busy getting over a traumatic event that happened in the city to notice the darkness lurking behind Inaba's oppressive fog. But soon enough, Shuichi will have to face it, for the sake of his new friends, his new home, and himself.A Persona 4 AU.Chapter 6 scheduled for November 15 (I SWEAR)





	1. A Small, Uneventful Town

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, I'm really excited about this and also really nervous.
> 
> I love Danganronpa A LOT, and I think Persona 4 has the most interesting initial concept of the Persona games, and one night I just sat up in bed and though, "hey, putting these together might be a good idea." I wrote the first two and a half chapters, plotted most of the rest of it out, and I still think it was a good idea so hey, let's do this.
> 
> A couple notes: 
> 
> This isn't following the plot of P4 exactly. I'm not just plugging characters into other characters. I just really want to use the concept of P4 to explore the characters of Danganronpa. That being said, if you haven't played Persona 4, it'll be mildly spoilery on the concept, but I think you can safely read it without worrying about it ruining P4 for you. Take that with a small grain of salt though- I do tend to be less sensitive to spoilers than the average person. 
> 
> This is also going to be a long one with slow burn relationships. I've put them up in the tags because I think it's nice to know, but don't expect to get them for awhile. The fic itself will be primarily friendship focused too, so if you're less than enthused about any of the pairings, I hope you'll still give this a shot. You've already gotten to the notes, might as well give it a go? Yeah?
> 
> Also really minor thing, I tend to avoid using Japanese suffixes in my writing (just because it can feel awkward) but they crop up from time to time when it feels appropriate. 
> 
> Anyway, that's it! Let's go!

The piece of paper in Shuichi Saihara’s pocket is now soft and worn like fabric. He takes it out, unfolds it, double checks the contents, folds it back up again, and puts it in his pocket. Repeat. His mother’s looping handwriting fades more and more each time. It doesn’t matter. He’d memorized it the first time he’d looked at it. But it was the only thing Shuichi had left to do besides watch the scenery pass by outside the window. He’d gotten nauseous trying to read his book and staring at his phone had been even worse. So folding and unfolding, wrinkling and unwrinkling it is. 

_ Detective Hajime Hinata _

_ Short spiky brown hair, skinny _

_ Will be wearing a green tie _

“He’s a very dear childhood friend of mine,” his mother had said as she took him to the train station. “I haven’t seen him since you were a baby. He changed your diapers a few times.”

Shuichi has no memory of Detective Hajime Hinata, although he knows he’s in the framed photo of his mother’s senior year class that sits on their piano. Mom had pointed him out right before they headed out the door. In the photo, he smiles just slightly at the camera, no teeth. The rest of the class is in a state of chaos, and he’s in the middle of it, like an eye of the storm. He looks a little annoyed but also a little fond. 

“I had a huge crush on him in middle school,” his mother had laughed. “He was the reliable sort in a class full of weirdos. And he was handsome, of course, in a non-intimidating way.”

“Mom,” he’d mumbled, uncomfortable. His tone had made her laugh.

“I’m the one who should be embarrassed! I still have so many pictures of him from back then when I’d follow him around,” she had reached a hand over to fix Shuichi’s collar without even needing to look at him. “Anyway, I trust him with you.”

His mother’s trust is a prize up there with the likes of Nobels and Pulitzers. The evidence stacks up in Detective Hajime Hinata’s favor.

And then there’s the “detective” part. A small-town country detective, yes, but he’s still a detective. His mother’s mouth had quirked nervously when she mentioned that. Shuichi hadn’t needed to school his reaction, because he hadn’t been able to decide what his reaction was. Nerves. Excitement. Dread.

_ No major crimes have happened in Inaba for years. There's nothing too bad to worry about. Shoplifters, maybe, noise complaints. Maybe he’ll let me shadow him _ .  _ It could be a great chance to- or maybe that’s not a good idea. But- _

He unfolds the paper again. The announcer comes on over the loudspeaker in her measured, high voice, letting everyone know that Inaba is approaching.

_ One thing at a time, Saihara _ , he tells himself sternly. _Meet Detective Hajime Hinata first. Get settled in. Get used to going to school again. Take it one day after the other._

He shivers, hand convulsing on the paper and crumpling it. He hastily stows it back in his pocket, then stands and makes his way through the aisle of the train towards the doors.

-

The air of Inaba- wet, clean, and full of spring- is so different than the city. He can smell the trees here, a startling contrast from the sharp exhaust scent of Tokyo. The mist in the air only makes it stronger. Shuichi begins to tear the paper in his hands into small pieces as he looks nervously around. Nobody stands out to him. He wonders if he should call- his mom had saved the detective’s number in his phone.  _ Brown hair- ah, over there. His tie is red though. Skinny- black hair though. Right there- _

“Are you Shuichi Saihara?”

Shuichi jumps violently, tiny pieces of paper fluttering from his hands to the ground as he spins to see who had addressed him. The unassuming man seems just as startled. A young girl stands halfway behind him, one hand clenched in his pant leg, the other fiddling with the gaming system. Shuichi lets out a breath as the man holds up his hands in reassurance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Um, no, it’s my fault,” Shuichi stammers, a hand over his chest as if he could crush down his rapidly beating heart. He focuses, taking in the spiky, brown hair, the green tie, the narrow shoulders. “A-are you Detective Hinata?”

“That’s me,” he smiles, hands lowering. “I guess you wouldn’t remember me. You were barely two the last time I saw you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Shuichi glances at the little girl, then quickly away when he sees her looking back. He fiddles with the strap of his bag before remembering himself and bowing hastily. The brim of his hat blocks out everything but their shoes. “I am extremely grateful for your willingness to look after me for the year. I apologize in advance if I am any trouble.”

There’s a short pause before the detective laughs. Shuichi peeks up a bit, past the little girl- _looking again at her game_ \- until he can just barely see Detective Hinata’s smile. “Yeah, you’re definitely Mahiru’s kid. You don’t look much like her, but you’re so polite.”

“Um. I’m sorry,” Shuichi starts, unsure, but the detective waves a hand to stop him.

“No, it’s good! Just, no need to be so formal with me. I was happy to help you two out.”

Shuichi straightens the rest of the way, fingers tightening on the strap of his backpack. The detective reaches down and tugs one of the ears on the cat hoodie that the girl is wearing. “Chiaki, say hello, will you?”

The girl looks towards Shuichi again, and he tries not to cringe away from the eye contact this time. She’s just a kid, after all. He manages something that might be a smile, and she tilts her head. For a child, her eyes are very focused.  It feels like she’s scanning him for weaknesses. She nods after a moment, and Shuichi wonders if she’s found them already.  _ I suppose they might be rather obvious _ .

“Do you like games?” she asks.

“G-games?” Shuichi stutters. He hadn't been expecting that question. She holds up her handheld system, showing him the pause menu of what seems like an action game.  _ That seems like a bit much for her age, but what do I know- _ “I don’t play much, but I guess...I don’t not like them?”

She lets go of her father’s leg, walking closer to Shuichi and grabbing the bottom of his jacket. “We can play some together when we get home.”

“Um, okay,” Shuichi says. “I’m probably not very good though. So...”

“Games are more fun to play together,” Chiaki says. Not letting go of his jacket, she resumes her game. It looks like she’s fighting some sort of dragon. Her character also looks like it might be a dragon.

“Sorry,” says the detective when Shuichi glances towards him. “Chiaki loves games. We taught her how to read with text-based adventures.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, want me to take your bag?” asks Detective Hinata, reaching out a hand. “We’ll be walking to my house. The car’s been a pain lately.”

“No, thank you, I’ve got it,” says Shuichi, gripping on to the bag strap like a lifeline. “There’s not too much. Mom sent most of my stuff in the mail yesterday, so it should be arriving here...so...for now, I’m...fine.”

The detective shrugged. “Suit yourself. We’re headed this way. Chiaki, look up to see where you’re going every once in a while, okay?”

“Kay,” she says. She still hasn’t let go of Shuichi’s jacket.

Detective Hinata offers Shuichi one last smile, then starts heading away from the train station with long strides. Shuichi follows a few steps behind, towing Chiaki along from where her hand holds his jacket. He wonders if he should take her hand to guide her along better. That’d probably be too friendly. His fingers continue to play with the coarse strap of his bag. He looks up towards the sky. The weather is perfect, breezy, early spring. Hajime Hinata is polite. His daughter wants to play games with him. Everything will be fine. Different. A fresh start.

_ Everything’s okay _ .  _ It’s gonna be fine. _

-

It takes about a twenty minute walk to get to the small house. Shuichi spends it looking around in every direction, trying to memorize the layout of the neighborhood. Detective Hinata comments every so often, pointing toward roads to indicate the direction of landmarks. The new Junes, the police station, bus routes, the blacksmith. Shuichi is a little confused about that last one, but he can’t muster the courage to ask.

The detective comes to an abrupt halt at the front gate of what must be his house. Shuichi approaches his back carefully, peeking around his shoulder to see a huddled figure outside the door. Through the mist, it’s hard to make out features. Detective Hinata is rubbing his temples. This time, Shuichi manages to ask: “Who’s that?”

Chiaki looks up when Shuichi speaks, eyes zeroing in on the figure and suddenly lighting up. Shuichi startles as she shoves her game system into his jacket pocket, breaking off from his side to run towards the door. The front gate bursts open with a slam from the force of her push. Her limbs flail out wildly as she goes, her balance teetering all over the place until she finally takes a flying leap into the figure sitting by the door, hitting them with a _whump_. They startles upwards at the impact, barely keeping her from clocking her head against the doorframe. She must have woken them up. They stand, balancing Chiaki on their hip and tousling her hair.

_Dozing off outside the door?_ _Even in a small town like Inaba, that’s sort of careless_.

Detective Hinata lowers his hands from his temples. He looks tired-  _ that’s not quite the right word...resigned? _ \- but he’s smiling a bit too. It’s a bit like that expression from the senior year photo. He starts walking again, Shuichi hurrying to follow him. As they get closer to the figure ruffling Chiaki’s hair, Shuichi can see that he’s a man, taller and somehow skinnier than Detective Hinata. He doesn’t seem very healthy. His hair is so blond it might as well be white, and his skin is nearly the same color. Shuichi looks down at his own hands.  _ I suppose I don’t have room to talk there. _

The man’s loose sleeves have slid down, exposing wrists that jut out uncomfortably far from beneath the skin. Just looking at him makes Shuichi vaguely disturbed. It’s like looking at a walking skeleton, drained of blood but still wearing skin.

“Komaeda, how long have you been sitting out here?” asks the detective, tone flat. “I said I’d call when he got here.”

“I haven’t been here long, promise. Just twenty minutes,” the man- Komaeda- hoists Chiaki up a little more. Shuichi is a little worried that he might shatter under her weight. Detective Hinata makes an aborted motion to grab at them, like he’s thinking the same thing, but he puts his arms back to his sides before Komaeda notices. Tipping his chin towards two white bags on the ground, Komaeda says, “I thought I’d cook!”

Chiaki throws her arms in the air, almost tipping backwards out of Komaeda’s grip. Detective Hinata sighs deeply, reaching down to grab the bags. Komaeda quickly steps in his way. He smiles, eyes pleasant against Detective Hinata's stare. “I got them.”

Detective Hinata’s gaze sharpens as Komaeda tips over, Chiaki giggling at the change of angle, to hoist the bags up and hang them on the crook of his elbow. Komaeda just smiles. “I’ll have to ask you to unlock the door though.”

“You should give Uncle Nagi a key, I think,” says Chiaki. “Then he wouldn’t have to sit outside and wait.”

“Chi-chan, it’s okay,” says Komaeda, reaching up to poke at her frowning cheek. The bags on his arm have pushed his loose sweatshirt sleeve up even further, and Shuichi can see how the straps dig deep into his skin. He rubs his own arm, feeling sympathy discomfort. “Your dad doesn’t want me to have a key. He’s very smart that way.”

“Dad, why won’t you give Uncle Nagi a key to the house?”

Detective Hinata doesn’t answer, instead pushing the two of them to the side to get to the door. He reaches out to catch Chiaki’s shoulder to steady them both while his other hand fishes in his pockets. “Shuichi, this is Nagito Komaeda. He’s my partner at the police.”

_ He doesn’t look like much of a detective _ , Shuichi thinks uncharitably. Then he shakes himself.  _ Well, it is just a small town. And it’s not like there’s a particular way detectives should look. That's just TV talking. _

“I’m thrilled to meet you, Shuichi,” says Detective Komaeda. His smile seems just as fragile as the rest of him but that might have to do with the small droplets of sweat starting to bead on his face. “Koizumi was always very kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You’re lucky to have her for a mother.”

Shuichi tries to recall that senior class picture where he’d seen Detective Hinata. He doesn’t remember anybody like Detective Komaeda. With that shocking cloud of hair, he should have stood out.  _ I’ll have to ask Mom _ .

He bows as Detective Hinata starts unlocking the door. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective Komaeda. Thank you for coming to welcome me.”

Shuichi peeks up when Detective Komaeda doesn’t say anything for a moment. His smile has slipped a bit off his face, and his eyes have widened. Chiaki pokes him in the cheek, and he comes back to himself, smile wider but thinner than before. “Sorry! Nobody’s ever formal with me like that. You’re definitely Koizumi’s son.”

_ Mom  _ is  _ big on manners, but I’m not sure why everyone takes it as proof of relation. _

The door bangs open, making them both jump. Detective Hinata glances back with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I got frustrated. I keep meaning to fix the lock.”

“I could do it for you, you know,” says Detective Komaeda as he lets Detective Hinata and then Shuichi in before him. Chiaki hops out of his arms once they’re through the threshold, taking hold of Shuichi’s jacket again and pulling him towards the TV. “I’m here to be useful.”

“You’d somehow end up with a key to the house that way, I know it.”

“I wouldn’t take advantage like that, Detective Hinata.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chiaki pulls Shuichi down to sit on a cushion by the table, scrambling around until she unearths a controller from within the cushions of the couch. Shuichi pulls the strap of his bag over his head, setting it by the wall as Chiaki holds out the controller to him. “Dad never puts them away right.” 

He takes it tentatively as she moves towards the TV and starts fiddling with the console there. While she’s busy, he looks around, taking in the house. It’s small, but comfortable. Clearly lived-in, but not overly messy. Glancing back, he sees that Detective Hinata has pulled the grocery bags away from his partner, taking them towards the small kitchen. Detective Komaeda has paused, staring at a picture frame on the wall. He bows towards it. “Excuse my intrusion.”

_ What’s that? _

Curious, Shuichi tries to lean back to catch a glimpse. He hadn’t noticed the picture there when he’d entered the house. 

“Shuichi, are you ready to play?” asks Chiaki, and Shuichi snaps back towards her. She’s quirking her head at him, cat hoodie falling off her head. He looks at the screen. A vaguely human-shaped blob is plummeting through the sky. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“I’ll teach you,” Chiaki assures him. “Besides, you’re supposed to fail some in this one.”

_ Supposed to fail? _ Shuichi squints at the screen skeptically.  _ That seems counterintuitive. _

“Well, Shuichi, you’re already fitting right in,” says Detective Hinata as he approaches from the kitchen. Detective Komaeda is depositing food in the cabinets and fridge. “You’re enabling Chiaki’s obsession from the start.”

“Dad,” Chiaki whines. Shuichi watches in confusion as the human shaped blobs suddenly hit land with a whump. “When I save up enough for a third controller, I think I’m gonna give it to Uncle Nagi instead of you.”

“Oh no, whatever will I do then,” Detective Hinata muses, picking up the newspaper from the coffee table and paging through it.

The game continues to baffle Shuichi, but Chiaki giggles every time either of them makes a mistake. It’s warm, bubbly, quiet. There is no sharpness to it. It floats. As they go along, Shuichi feels himself relaxing. There’s no punishment for failing beyond a location reset.  _ I guess you are supposed to fail a bit. What an odd game. _

Detective Hinata trades in his newspaper for a book. Detective Komaeda hums lightly from the kitchen. Chiaki starts trying to shove him off the edge on purpose, giggling when she accidentally throws herself off instead. 

His shoulders loosen. His mouth quirks up.  _ Is it okay to feel so comfortable so fast? No, right? No. But it’s fine, right? Maybe that’s fine. Mom likes them. So it must be fine. _

“Dinner,” says Detective Komaeda, suddenly right beside him. Shuichi nearly throws his controller to the ceiling. “Whoops, you were really in to it, huh?”

“Sorry!” Shuichi says, a little too loud. A bowl appears in front of him slowly, like it's being handed to a nervous animal, full of steaming rice, vegetables and meat. He glances towards Detective Komaeda’s smile and bows his head. “Thank you very much, Detective.”

“Komaeda is fine,” he says, smile twisting into something more uncomfortable. Up close, Shuichi can see just how deep the bruises under his eyes are.  _ It probably looks worse with how pale he is. Mom doesn’t even get that bad near deadlines.  _ “Nobody calls me Detective, not even at the station.”

“You can just call him Uncle Nagi, I think,” adds Chiaki, taking the controller from him. She’s gone ahead and turned off the game.

Shuichi’s face must say what  _ he _ thinks of that, because Komaeda laughs and moves away, leaning to put a bowl in Chiaki’s place. 

“That’s too much for Shuichi, Chi-chan,” he chuckles, turning to grab the other two bowls from the kitchen counter. He hands the first to Detective Hinata, who takes it absently, slowly folding the corner of his book page down. Still holding the other bowl, Komaeda lowers himself to the floor next to Chiaki, ignoring the space left on the couch. “Komaeda will work just fine for both of us.”

Detective Hinata finally puts his book to the side, leaning forward over Chiaki to grab the television remote. He comes up short, frowning at Komaeda’s bowl of food. “That’s all you want?”

“My stomach’s a bit off,” says Komaeda casually. He takes the remote from Detective Hinata gently, flicking to the news. 

“You need your medicine?”

“I’m fine. Although I’m very honored that you’re concerned-”

“You’ll take it if you need it?”

Komaeda gestures to the television in lieu of answering. “Look, it’s your favorite segment.”

_ -in an exclusive scoop, we discovered a few days ago that famed superstar and fashion icon Junko Enoshima is vacationing at the famed hot springs of Inaba, at the Yumeno Family Inn. This is her first hiatus since her year off back at age seventeen-  _

“Why the hell are they still showing this?” Detective Hinata whines, successfully distracted. “Haven’t they humiliated us enough already.”

“Language,” says Chiaki, food in her mouth. Detective Hinata makes a face at her.

_ -yet to catch even a glimpse of her since, but one of our intrepid reporters managed to catch her on camera for an exclusive interview last week- _

“This is the national news,” Detective Hinata continues. “The national news. Why is this on the national news? Isn’t anything important happening in this country?”

_ “Miss Enoshima, how are you enjoying-” _

_ “Oh, hello! A fan? Want me to sign something?” _

_ “I’m just wondering how you’re enjoying-” _

_ “Sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to step away from Miss Enoshima and turn that camera off right now. This is your only warning.” _

_ “What? Come on, give me one ques- ow! Ow! My arm! You can’t do that!” _

_ “Mukuro’s just overprotective, you know how sisters can be! Always nice to meet a fan!” _

_ “Ah, not the came-” _

“Put me out of my misery,” says Detective Hinata as Junko Enoshima on screen leans down and waves at the upended camera. “Let me take Soda and Nidai with me though.”

“Two of the detectives were supposed to keep press away from Miss Enoshima while she was staying here,” Komaeda explains to Shuichi as his partner snatches the remote from his hands and starts furiously clicking through the channels. “They tried very hard, but Miss Enoshima’s a woman with a lot of admirers. Determined admirers.”

“Wow, Junko Enoshima was here, huh?” Shuichi says. He’d seen her on many magazine covers when he was picking up his lunch from the store back in the city.  _ I understand the obsession people have with her. She is very...magnetic _ .  _It's her eyes, maybe._

“First of all, they did not try very hard, they slacked off like they always do. Second of all, they shouldn’t have had to do it anyway, we’re a police force, not a security company,” Detective Hinata grits out. “She’s got her own people, calling in detectives just made her easier to track down.”

“Not everyone is as smart as you, Detective,” Komaeda responds, without a hint of sarcasm. 

Detective Hinata eventually settles on some strange show with people jumping around in neon spandex, fighting badly animated enemies. Chiaki hums along with the theme music between bites. 

Shuichi remains quiet through the evening, but he keeps feeling his mouth quirk into a smile. Chiaki finishes her meal first, scooching around the table to lean against her father’s legs as she tries to stay awake and watch the action on the television. Komaeda eats his food almost one grain of rice at a time. Detective Hinata reopens his book. Dinner sits snugly in Shuichi’s stomach.  _ I guess it’s okay to be comfortable. It’s okay. It's gotta be okay. _

Unsettled with the warmth, Shuichi pulls at at the brim of his hat self-consciously, casting a shadow over his face, and shoves another bite of rice in his mouth.

-

After an argument that was mostly comprised of Detective Hinata standing in front of the door and glaring, Komaeda ends up on the couch instead of returning to his own apartment. Detective Hinata had insisted it was far too foggy outside for Komaeda to make his way home. The mist had become heavy and ominous seemingly within an instant. When Shuichi peers out the window, he can’t see anything through it. Komaeda had only listened when Chiaki got involved and pointed out that he could make a nice breakfast for Shuichi’s first day of school if he stayed.

“I just don’t want to inconvenience you,” Komaeda had said. Chiaki had jabbed him in the side in response.

Shuichi, meanwhile, gets set up to the spare room- “Your room,” Detective Hinata had insisted. He had, however, seemed a bit sheepish about it and, sure enough, there’s definitely more dust than Shuichi would like. But there is also a bed with sheets, a TV, a desk, and even a fan there for him, which is honestly more than he’d been expecting.

“We’ll get it cleaned up more this weekend, I promise,” says the detective, hovering in the doorway. “We’ll set Komaeda on it. He’s obsessive about cleaning. He’ll probably insist on painting the walls. And carpeting the floor. And- you know, on second thought, maybe we should leave Komaeda out of it.”

Once assured that Shuichi didn’t need anything, Detective Hinata moves away from the door, pulling it closed behind him. He pauses before it’s completely shut and turns back. Shuichi waits while he gathers his thoughts, one hand rubbing at his spiky hair. “ Listen, Mahiru’s a great friend. So, while you’re here, you’re a member of the family, okay? You can come to me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” says Shuichi, hesitantly. The detective nods and continues down to the first floor. Shuichi shuts the door behind him.

Outside, the fog presses menacingly against his window. Through the floor, he can hear the indistinct noise of Detective Hinata and Komaeda talking. Chiaki is already sound asleep in her room, as far as Shuichi knows. She could also be under the covers, tapping at her game system. Shuichi used to do that with books as a kid.

_ That’s the first time I’ve really talked to anyone except Mom in weeks _ , Shuichi realizes. He notices his hands trembling, and he clenches them tight to steady himself. Out loud, he says, “I’m going to be better here.”

It almost sounds convincing.

He sits up for a bit, typing out a quick email to let his mom know that he’s arrived alright. He hesitates over the send button, then adds a question about Komaeda before shooting it off. He’s just wondering why he wasn’t in Mom’s picture. Maybe he was in another grade. After setting his alarm for plenty early, he shuts off the lights and quickly goes to sleep.

The fog outside keeps on rolling in.

-

Shuichi wakes up with a gasp, losing his balance on the edge of the bed and falling gracelessly to the floor.

“Ow,” he says, belatedly. He extracts a hand from his twisted sheets and prods at his head for damage. Nothing hurts.  _That's a relief._ Freeing himself from the tangle of blankets, he sits up, reaching for his alarm. The numbers taunt him. He could have slept another five minutes.

He shuts it off. He’s up now, he might as well stay up. Even though he feels as if he hardly slept at all. Maybe he’d...had a dream? There’d been fog, maybe, and he think that he’d been running and then-  _ I can’t remember. _

“Probably just nerves,” he mutters.

Chiaki is sitting in the living room when Shuichi comes downstairs, playing a game one-handed while shoveling her western-style breakfast into her mouth. Komaeda’s in the kitchen, scrubbing at pans in the sink. He looks up when Shuichi approaches and nods towards a plate on the counter. “I hope you don’t mind eggs and toast. They’re what Chi-chan requested.”

“I like them. Thank you,” Shuichi says, picking it up. There’s no fork nearby, and he hovers awkwardly for a moment. 

“Cutlery’s in the drawer right in front of you.” 

“Oh. Thanks,” he hastily grabs one and glances around the apartment again. “Where’s Detective Hinata this morning?”

“He’s at work. The chief called early this morning asking him to come in,” Komaeda turns off the sink, wiping his hands on the dishcloth hanging from one of the cabinet handles. “I said I’d make sure that you and Chiaki got off alright.”

Shuichi nods.

“He left you a key, by the way,” Komaeda says, gesturing towards the door. Sure enough, on a hook by the door, there’s a loop of string with a single key attached. 

“R-really?” Shuichi asks. He puts down his food to grab it.  _ It seems kind of odd that he’d let me have one off the bat, but not his partner. Well, I guess I’m living here. Oh, yeah, I’m living here.  _ “But that’s too much. I-I mean, what if I...”

“You need it, don’t you? Otherwise, you’ll have to rely on Chi-chan to let you in all the time,” Komaeda leans against the counter, still fiddling idly with the dishrag. “Besides, it’s easy to tell you’re a good kid, Shuichi.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi mumbles, uncomfortable with the compliment. He carefully zips the key in the front pocket of his bag, then grabs his plate again and hurries to join Chiaki on the floor.

“I’ll walk you most of the way to your school, I guess” she says without preamble. “It’s just a little past mine. I think.”

“Okay,” he says, suddenly relieved. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he didn’t know where the school was. His nerves are creeping up again, laying spindly fingers on his lungs and heart. He takes a deep breath and a large bite of eggs. It quells the feeling somewhat.

Komaeda joins them at the table, across from Shuichi. His plate holds a single piece of toast and a collection of multi-colored pills.

“Toast first,” says Chiaki. 

“Thank you, Chi-chan. Taking my medicine is one thing I know how to do,” Komaeda says. Shuichi watches him grimace as he takes a small bite. 

_ Is he sick? I mean, obviously he is, but- _ Komaeda catches his eye. Shuichi looks down but not fast enough.

“Ah, no need to worry, Shuichi. I’ve been taking most of these since high school.”

Shuichi pulls his hat down further, embarrassed for inadvertently prying.

Breakfast goes by quietly except for the sounds of Chiaki’s game. It takes Komaeda just as long to eat his toast and swallow his medicine as it does for Shuichi to eat his own full plate of food. He slowly drains his tall glass of water, taking one pill at a time. His swallows are deliberate and uncomfortable.

Shuichi tries not to watch, keeping his eyes on Chiaki’s game instead.

Once the last pill is swallowed, Komaeda takes their empty plates and rinses them off as Chiaki and Shuichi move to slide on their shoes. As Komaeda comes to put on his own, he pauses and looks up at the picture by the door. Shuichi had forgotten about it from the night before. He takes the chance to look himself.

The spitting image of Chiaki stares back, smiling slightly in a simple white dress. Her strawberry hair peeks through a thin veil. Her eyes are warm and inviting. It somehow seems like they’re really looking at him. He looks to Chiaki, who is watching Komaeda. Her cat hoodie obscures most of her expression.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” says Komaeda softly then stands and smiles at the two of them, extending his hands to usher them out the door. “Come on, don’t want to be late.”

Chiaki stands on her tiptoes to lock to the door behind them, then wraps her arms around Komaeda’s legs in a hug. His hands rest briefly in her hair. “Don’t let Dad work too hard today. And make sure that you eat a lunch, Uncle Nagi.”

“Yes, yes,” he says, pushing her gently off of him. “I have to drop by my apartment, so I’m going the other way today. You two have a good day at school!”

“Thanks,” says Shuichi. Chiaki waves enthusiastically at Komaeda’s retreating back.

As they walk, Shuichi thinks about asking her about the picture but can’t figure out the right way to phrase the question. Chiaki is quiet, one hand on the hem of his blazer to lead him while the other taps away at her game. She’d sunken into herself when Komaeda had left their sight. She still responds when he talks to her, but nothing beyond what she needs to say. He decides to leave it for now.  _ It’s not like I can’t take a guess. _

Chiaki veers off when they reach the elementary school, instructing him to just keep going straight and then to take a right where he sees uniforms, “I think.”  _ She could really seem more confident about that. _

After a moment of thought, she wraps her arms around his waist in a quick hug, before running down the path that leads to the school’s entrance. He doesn’t even have time to react. He watches until she reaches the gate and disappears before turning to follow her instructions.

The streets are very empty without her next to him. He’s used to weaving through crowds and pushing onto trains. The bare space feels unnatural. It prickles at his skin like needles, like eyes peering at him from the shadows.

He’s half-convinced that he’s heading the wrong way until a group of students in the same uniform emerge from a side-street in front of him. Their voices break the silence. They talk easily with each other. Another group comes into view as Shuichi reaches the top of a hill, their shoulders knocking and hands moving. It’s a small town, after all. Everyone must know each other. The uneasy feeling of being alone shifts into one that is more familiar.

The two groups converge and continue together. He stays behind. _Everybody knows each other. I’m on my own. It’s okay._ _I’m used to this. I can stay used to this. If I just-_

“Bro, shit, move!”

Shuichi jumps to the side instinctively just as a bike comes whizzing past him, its rider still yelling curses and warnings. It slides on the slick pavement, skidding towards the side of the road and catching on the rougher terrain, launching its rider over the handlebars into the grass where he lands hard on his shoulder. His shouts cut off as the impact knocks the wind out of him. 

Shuichi stares wide-eyed at the sprawled body for a long moment before jumping to action. He jogs down the hill towards the downed bike. The boy remains motionless. Just as Shuichi comes to a halt beside him, he’s started into a yelp by the boy suddenly jolting to a sitting position, eyes wild and upon him. Shuichi brings his arms up instinctively. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be in your way, I just-”

“Bro, that was a sick dodge,” the bike rider enthuses. Shuichi lowers his arms as the other boy pulls himself to his feet, coming closer. Shuichi yelps again when his shoulders are suddenly grabbed. “Did you get hurt at all though?”

Overwhelmed, Shuichi mutely lets the other boy turn him from side to side consideringly before releasing him. He takes in the bicyclist's appearance. The guy has got mud all over the side of his uniform jacket from the fall. Sharp purple locks of hair stick out from the slots of his helmet. There’s a blinding grin on his face as he laughs. “Sorry, that was totally my bad. The brakes stopped working this morning, but I kept riding it. It was a bad call. My bad.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” mutters Shuichi, still processing this person. The grin fades a bit as the boy leans in close, hand coming up to his own chin. Shuichi leans away. “What?”

“I don’t recognize you,” says the boy, stretching his words out like he’ll remember in the time in takes to get them out. He scratches at the back of his head, looking to the sky. “Am I just forgetting?”

“I’m, um, a transfer student,” says Shuichi. He blinks as the grin returns in full-force. His teeth are impossibly white and straight. Shuichi self-consciously realizes that he’s forgotten to brush his own and tries to keep his mouth mostly shut as he continues. “I’m starting today.”

“Oh, yeah? Awesome, bro.”

Shuichi takes the hand offered to him, regretting it as it’s shaken violently. “I’m Kaito Momota!”

“Shuichi Saihara,” he extracts his hand somehow and hides it behind his back. Somehow an arm ends up slung around his shoulder instead.

“Well, Shuichi, you’re super in luck today!” Momota points to himself with his thumb. “I’m an expert on Inaba! And, to make up for almost killing you on your first day, I’m going to let you know everything there is to know about everything. Starting with getting you to school!”

“T-thank you,” says Shuichi. Momota lets go of him, bounding over to pick up his bike before beginning to walk forward. His strides are huge. Shuichi almost has to jog to keep up.

“Anyway, tell me about you, Shuichi! Where are you from? Why did you move here? Where are you staying? What do you-”

“Ah, wait! Wait! Um, what was your first question?”

-

Kaito- who had hardly reacted to Momota, claiming nobody called him that- keeps asking him questions during the entire walk to school. Every time Shuichi trails off, Kaito nods confidently and repeats it back, in summary. It’s like he’s committing everything about Shuichi to memory in case he has to take a test on the minutiae of Shuichi’s life. He interjects from time to time to point out buildings of interest before re-prompting Shuichi with exactly where he left off. He also mentions the blacksmith.  _I'm still not sure what's going on with that one._

By the time they reach the school building, Shuichi’s throat is sore. He shifts his weight from foot to foot as Kaito locks his bike up. When he pulls his helmet off his head, his hair miraculously springs straight up. It adds a significant amount to his already significant height.  _ He could lift his foot up and crush me.  _ Instead, Kaito thumps him on the back, sending Shuichi stumbling forward, pinwheeling his arms to stay balanced. “I’ll show you to the faculty office!”

Kaito tows him along by a hand on his upper arm. Shuichi stumbles as he tries to keep up. Around them, people are whispering and staring at them. Snatches of conversation filter through his ears-  _ who is- never seen- wonder if- Kaito’s got him in his-  _ _ by the way did you hear that- _

Kaito either doesn’t notice or is steadfastly ignoring the attention. Shuichi can feel heat climbing up his neck. He pulls at his hat.  When he does so, his foot catches on his other ankle, and he flails to regain his footing. He finally finds his voice, pulling back on Kaito's grip. “K-Kaito, you’re too tall!”

“What?” Kaito stops and turns around, taking stock of Shuichi. He reaches up a hand to rest on his own head, then puts the other one down on Shuichi's, knocking the cap down even further. “You are pretty tiny, huh? I didn’t even notice.”

_ I’m not tiny _ . Shuichi thinks resentfully, then grimaces.  _ Okay, maybe a bit. Comparatively at least. _

“Hey, uh, sorry,” Kaito says, slightly softer than before. “Uh, people tell me that I get too excited sometimes, but you just gotta tell me and I’ll tone it down.”

“Am I that exciting?” Shuichi asks, straightening his cap to catch a glimpse of Kaito’s face. 

Kaito’s eyes flit away from the contact, and the hand on Shuichi’s head lifts to scratch at his own cheek. “Well, you know, it’s a small town.”

Something about the tone seems odd, but Shuichi doesn’t comment, and Kaito snaps back to his blinding grin in an instant. “I’ll slow down for you! Anyway, Taka-sensei’s great! You’re so polite ‘n proper ‘n stuff, you’ll move him to tears.”

Taka-sensei- or Ishimaru-sensei, as he sternly corrects Kaito’s exuberant greeting- is in fact nearly moved to tears when Shuichi bows respectfully.  _ Is everyone in Inaba so...loud? _

The answer seems to be yes. He can hear his classmates whispering-  _ if you can call that whispering-  _ through the door as he waits for Ishimaru-sensei to prompt him to enter. Kaito’s distinctive voice breaks through the hum as he boasts about already having met him. Shuichi puts his hands on his cheeks, ordering the embarrassment away. It doesn't quite listen.

“Quiet, students!” he hears Ishimaru-sensei shout. “Come on in, Saihara!”

Shuichi opens the door nervously and pads into the room. From his peripheral vision, he notices Kaito beaming at him, and he manages to quirk his lips slightly in return. He comes to a halt next to Ishimaru-sensei, his fingers worrying at the bottom of his jacket. Faces watch him expectantly. The blur together into a blank lump under his unfocused eyes. He clears his throat. 

“Good morning. My name is Shuichi Saihara. I’m staying here for the year while my mother is traveling. I usually live in Tokyo. I look forward getting to know everyone,” he forces these words out all in a rush, then takes a deep breath. His voice had only shaken a little, and he hadn’t stuttered once. He exhales softly. 

“Thank you, Saihara!” says Ishimaru-sensei. He claps his hands together with force. The sudden noise makes Shuichi jump. “Since you already know Momota, you may take that empty desk behind him! Akamatsu, please help Momota in getting Saihara situated to this school environment!”

“Yes, sensei,” says the girl to the right of the empty desk. Shuichi manages to focus on her face. She looks very soft and kind, and she offers a small smile when she sees him looking. Shuichi swallows and tries desperately not to trip on his way down the aisle. He almost succeeds, except for a small stumble.

When he manages to get in his chair, all the tension seeps from his muscles. The eyes are still on him, but he’s more hidden in the sea of heads than he was at the front of the room.  _ At least nobody’s said anything about the hat. _

The girl beside him- Akamatsu- reaches out to tap his shoulder. He tries not to shift away from it, instead glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She’s still smiling reassuringly. Ishimaru-sensei is beginning to talk about the school year and the assembly in the afternoon in the vocal equivalent of large capital letters. “I’m Kaede Akamatsu. It’s nice to meet you, Saihara.”

“N-Nice to meet you, too,” Shuichi mumbles.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let Kaito get you into too much trouble,” she continues in a whisper. “We’re neighbors, so keeping him out of trouble is kind of my specialty.”

Kaito looks back over his shoulder and sticks his tongue out at her. Akamatsu just smiles winningly back.

The door slides open, and Ishimaru-sensei cuts off mid-sentence to look over. The hair enters before the person, almost a foot in front of their face. Hard eyes survey all of them before his hand beckons their teacher over. The room begins to murmur among themselves as the man at the door leans over to whisper to Ishimaru-sensei as he draws closer. Their teacher’s eyes widen. He hissed back, and Shuichi strains to hear. 

“...sure...do you know…”

The other man shrugs, says something back, then gestures towards the room at large, prompting Ishimaru-sensei to turn around. He clears his throat as the man leaves, sliding the door shut behind him. The voices of the class quiet slowly.

“I’m afraid the rest of the school day has been cancelled due to an incident! I have been instructed to order you to return home directly and immediately!”

There are a few scattered cheers, and students start slinging their bags over their shoulders immediately. Akamatsu, however, raises her hand and asks, “What sort of incident, sensei?”

“I am not at liberty to disclose that information!”

Students are already filing out of the room. Ishimaru-sensei turns away from them to repeat his instruction to “return immediately home!” as they pass him.

_ Incident?  _ Shuichi pulls his phone from his pocket and looks at it.  _ Maybe I should call Detective Hinata? But, no, there hasn’t been- Inaba’s a small town. It couldn’t be- _

A hand lands on his shoulder. Kaito’s standing in front of him, a solemn look on his face. “Man, this is some first day for you, huh, bro?”

“Kaito told you me you said you were living with Detective Hinata, right?” Akamatsu asks. She’s also standing up, shoulder brushing against Kaito’s arm. Shuichi nods, and she offers a smile again, her shoulders coming up and eyes closing with warmth. “Well, Kaito and I live in that direction, so we’ll walk you home!”

“You don’t need to-”

“You heard Taka-sensei,” Kaito says, shaking his head seriously. “We’re in charge of you!’

“Th-that’s not exactly what he-”

“And I’d feel better walking in a group,” adds Akamatsu quickly. She shivers, exaggerated. “Something about the word ‘incident’ gives me the goosebumps, you know?”

Shuichi looks at them both.  _I guess it's not troubling them._  He puts his bag over his shoulder and finally nods. Akamatsu claps her hands together. “And, along the way, we can point out all the sights. Like Junes and the blacksmith?”

_ Okay, enough is enough. _

“U-Um, so, what is this blacksmith?”

-

They’re almost out the school gate before Kaito remembers that he has to grab his bike. Akamatsu frowns at that. “Are you okay to be riding that, Kaito? Just last week, you-”

“Just wait here for me, okay? Two seconds,” Kaito holds up both hands in peace signs before sprinting back towards the building.

“Kaito, go slow!” Akamatsu yells at his back. She huffs out a breath, a hand at her forehead. “I swear, he’s so difficult. Sorry you got dragged up in his wake on the first day, Shuichi.”

“What?” Shuichi startles at the direct address then waves his hands in front of him frantically. “O-oh, no! Um, he’s, um, been very kind.”

Akamatsu watches him for a moment, leaning down to look under the brim of his hat. It's a serious look. He can feel heat rising to his face. After a long, long moment, she lets out a giggle. “Well, I’m glad you ran into him then, I guess. He  _ is  _ very kind person,” she turns serious once more, pointing at him harshly. “Don’t take advantage of him, okay?”

“N-n-never!”

Akamatsu lowers her finger, smiling again. “I guess you don’t seem like that.”

“Kaede!”

Shuichi turns towards the noise as Akamatsu does. A girl with a big green ribbon in her hair is rushing up towards them, dragging a smaller red-haired girl along by the wrist. She stops in front of Akamatsu, feet braced in a ready stance and her free arm up like she’s ready to block an attack. “Is the new boy bothering you, Kaede? Owada-sensei said to go straight home!”

“Tenko, I’m fine. We’re just waiting for Kaito,” Akamatsu puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ishimaru-sensei said we have to help him get used to things.”

“Well, I just think that it’s a little suspicious that there’s some sort of incident on the same day that this new boy arrives!” the other girl exclaims. She puts a heavy emphasis on the word  _ boy _ like she’s saying  _ rat _ instead. Shuichi bristles.  _ Well, she doesn’t seem very nice _ . “Do you want us to accompany you? Himiko and I don’t mind!”

“I do too mind,” whines the red-haired girl. Tenko-  _ I can’t call her that, but I don’t know her last name- _ looks at her, apparently surprised. “I wanna go back to sleep.”

“Himiko! We can’t just leave a fellow girl to fend for herself, though!”

“Then you can go, and I’ll go home.”

“But-!” Tenko looks between all three of them frantically, torn. Shuichi looks down, hiding his face behind his hat.  _ Just don’t attack me. _

“It’s really okay, Tenko,” says Akamatsu. Sensing Tenko’s attention shifting, Shuichi dares to look up at them again. “You taught me those self-defense moves. And Kaito is there. You trust Kaito, right?”

“Trust is a strong word,” Tenko hedges, but her defensive stance has slackened. 

“You and Himiko go,” Akamatsu reaches to push both of them down the path by their shoulders. “Saihara’s a good guy. You can tell just by looking at him.”

Tenko peers at him intensely. He tugs at his hat brim so he can’t see her expression anymore.  _What's with everybody and their staring in this town?_  “I suppose he doesn’t seem threatening. You could definitely take him.”

Head coming up, Shuichi opens his mouth to say something to that, but it withers at the look Tenko throws him. He goes back to hiding behind his hat.  _ She’s not even wrong. What would be the point of protesting? _

“Exactly,” Akamatsu states. “Now, go, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Tenko,” the other girl whines again.

“Okay, okay, we’re going!” Tenko says. Two sets of footsteps begin to move, getting farther away by the moment. Shuichi can feel his shoulders relax, but he doesn’t dare look up again

_ Everyone is loud here. _

“Sorry about that,” Akamatsu says. “Tenko just-”

“I’m back!” he hears Kaito shout. He’s got his bike now, and he raises a hand to wave. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just the Tenko initiation,” Akamatsu sighs.

“Oh man, sorry about that. Chabashira is a little much when she’s not comfortable with you,” Kaito pats him on the shoulder consolingly. “Well, why don’t we take the shortcut so we don’t run into her and her Hime-sama.”

“Kaito!”

“Himiko, I mean. Just a joke.”

“I’m not sure about the shortcut though,” Akamatsu says haltingly. “I mean, Ishimaru-sensei said to go straight home.”

“The shortcut gets us there faster though!” Kaito points out. Shuichi’s eyes flick between them, barely following the conversation. “Besides, we’re supposed to be getting Shuichi acclimated, right? The shortcut is essential!”

“You okay cutting through some side streets, Saihara?” asks Akamatsu. 

Shuichi startles, knocking his elbow accidentally into Kaito’s ribs. The hand leaves his shoulder to grab at the afflicted spot.  “Oh! Sorry! I mean- whatever’s easier for you two!”

They end up taking the shortcut. Akamatsu keeps trying to point out landmarks before Kaito proudly announces that he’s already told Shuichi all about them. She scowls, ignoring him when it comes to Junes. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t tell him that I work there part-time. So, if you’re ever looking for me on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday afternoons, that’s where I am!”

“Still can’t believe you sold out, Kaede,” Kaito mock scolds her, dodging her half-hearted swipe and almost tripping over his bike. “We’re supposed to be maintaining our freedom from the big city!”

“The Amami’s are very nice people!” Kaede says sternly. “Even if their store is...very gaudy and big and...probably hurting the local shops. But hey, I do get a very nice employee discount in the very nice music section.”

“You must have thousands of Junes’s in Tokyo, huh, Shuichi?” Kaito asks.

“Um, yeah, they’re pretty ubiquitous.”

“They’ve really got everything though! It’s a novelty here. Actually, I’ve been thinking about getting a TV for my room so-”

“Um, guys? Is that...police tape?”

Shuichi looks where Akamatsu is pointing, and, sure enough, he can see the start of a line of police tape. Kaito cuts off the conversation to move towards it with more purposeful steps. Shuichi hurries along behind him, Akamatsu trailing along after. Noise begins to filter in as they get close, the sound of people talking and footsteps. Possibilities swirl through his head.  _ Maybe- car accident? Or a robbery of some sort? _

Kaito stops suddenly as they reach the tape, and Shuichi barrels into his back, almost shoving him through it. Peering around Kaito’s tall frame, he, at first, doesn’t see what’s wrong. Detective Hinata is there, along with Komaeda. A pink haired man in a dress shirt and loosened tie retches into the grass as Komaeda pats his back. Anxiety pooling in his stomach, he glances at Kaito who suddenly reaches out and grabs his elbow tight. He’s gone pale, his eyes fixed on something in the sky. As Shuichi follows his sight line, Akamatsu sees it. She’s standing next to Shuichi, and her elbow hits him roughly as she raises her hands to her mouth to cover a shrill scream. That’s what he thinks she’s doing, anyway. He can’t tear his eyes away from the sight above them.

Tangled legs. Twisted arms. Blond hair in pigtails pointing towards the earth. Blue eyes empty but also somehow full of an inhuman kind of- a kind of- some kind of  _ joy? _

Above them, on the powerline, like some sort of marionette, dangles the corpse of Junko Enoshima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chiaki and Shuichi are playing Human Fall Flat because why not. She's not playing anything in particular on her handheld.)
> 
> Updates will be monthly- probably gonna try to do the first Friday of every month from now on. I want to stay ahead on this to ensure a timely schedule with good quality chapters, so sorry for the long wait times but that's the only way this works.
> 
> I really appreciate any feedback, so let me know if you're at all intrigued so far!


	2. A Swiftly Falling Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented, kudo-ed, and bookmarked the last chapter! It makes me so happy to see you guys enjoying it so far and crafting your own theories about what could happen next in the comments. I'm hopeful that everybody will be surprised at least once or twice in this story :)
> 
> Without any further ado...

“What are you doing here?” shouts Detective Hinata. It snaps Shuichi out of his shocked stupor- for a moment. He watches distantly as the detective stalks towards them, but his gaze is drawn irresistibly back to the body. “You all should be at home!”

“W-we were just taking the shortcut,” Kaito manages, his voice small and strained. It all sounds very far away. “We didn’t know that-”

“Soda!” Detective Hinata snaps. “Soda! You said you’d cut off all routes here!” The pink-haired officer lets out a weak groan. Shuichi follows the sound, distracted again, momentarily. Komaeda looks up from where he’s crouched beside Soda. Shuichi slowly looks away, towards the body again. It’s like it’s magnetic. His brain is buzzing. “Komaeda, stop babying him!”

“I thought I had!” the pink haired officer moans, but he cuts off with another nauseous noise. Komaeda leaves his side hurriedly, rushing over to the group by the police tape. Shuichi can hear his approaching footsteps

“Kaede, it’s okay,” Kaito is trying to reassure her. “Don’t look at that. Come on, Kaede. Don’t look at that anymore.”

Akamatsu covers her face with her hands.

"Shuichi. Hey, Shuichi."

No matter how hard he tries, Shuichi can’t keep his eyes away from the body. He can’t stop examining it. His head’s gone into that detached place, listing out everything as he sees it. Every once in a while, his head snaps to a different scene, the one from the city, the one where-  _ don’t think about that. Placed purposefully, made to make a statement. Not just killing a celebrity but reveling in it. Focus. Maybe the power lines have to do with the victim’s power or the killer’s own power over her- some sort of metaphor? Focus. Either way, it’s definitely a daring- _

Suddenly, there’s a chest in front of him and hands slam on his shoulders.

“Shuichi!” Kaito shouts.

Shuichi zones back in with a snap. Kaito’s blocking out his view now. The tangled thoughts in his head stop vibrating against each other, fading into silence. He focuses on Kaito’s face as he shakes Shuichi once, calling his name again. “Shuichi!”

“S-sorry,” Shuichi stammers, finally back in reality, letting Kaito move him so that he’s faced away from the body. “I was j-just-”

“Komaeda, take them home,” says Detective Hinata brusquely. Shuichi can’t see his face anymore, so he has no idea what his expression is like. “You three are to say nothing about this until it is released publicly. Otherwise, you’ll be charged with obstruction of justice. You understand?”

“Detective Hinata, maybe be a little more-” Komaeda starts, but Detective Hinata’s already stalking away. 

“Soda! Go do your job and cut off the way they came from. We’re the same age, stop acting like a rookie!”

“I  _ am _ a rookie when it comes to this!” the pink haired officer whines, stumbling slowly over to the police tape, hands still on his stomach. “I don’t- I mean, do you see her? Do you-”

“We’ll have her down by the time you come back, so pull yourself together by then.”

“Well, come on,” says Komaeda. He extends an arm behind Akamatsu’s back, not touching her but still ushering her forward. Shuichi feels Kaito’s hands pushing on his own shoulders, getting him to walk away from the scene. When Shuichi automatically goes to glance backwards towards him, one of those hands comes up and turns his head back straight until they’ve rounded a corner.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” says Komaeda, drawing to a stop. They stop with him, automatically. He looks down at his own hands. “It’s my fault. Detective Hinata had me give Soda the list of streets to cut off, and I must have not presented it clearly enough.”

“It’s not- we just shouldn’t have taken the shortcut!” Kaito insists. “I mean, they told us to go straight home, we just didn’t think that ‘the incident’ meant…”

He trails off. 

“I still apologize,” Komaeda says, "as a member of the police."

“It’s okay,” Akamatsu suddenly speaks up. She crosses her arms tightly as if to cower from a chill. However, she forces a cheer into her voice as she continues. “I mean, nothing to do it about it now.”

The rest of the walk home continues silently. Akamatsu latches on to one of Kaito’s arms, the one that’s not still holding on to Shuichi. Kaito himself is taking deep, purposeful breaths. Shuichi mostly stares at their feet. Komaeda’s phone keeps buzzing, and he glances at each message briefly before returning it to his pocket. Somebody must be giving him updates, maybe Detective Hinata. 

They reach the Hinata house first. Komaeda glances at the other two and asks, “Momota, Akamatsu, do you think you can make it home together?”

“Yeah, I think so,” says Akamatsu, who looks calmer than she had before. Kaito releases Shuichi’s shoulder as he nods in agreement but then lifts his head suddenly, looking around.

“I think I left my bike back there,” he says. “I dropped it when Shuichi was spacing out.”

“I’ll get someone to bring it back to you by the end of the day,” Komaeda reassures him, already pulling out his phone and typing something in. “You two should just try to relax. We’re going to have the body down and put away soon. School should be back to normal schedule by tomorrow.”

“...Right,” says Kaito. He grins at Shuichi.  _ Going for normalcy, I guess _ . “Then, we’ll give you the whole tour after school tomorrow, Shuichi!”

“Yeah!” Akamatsu agrees, her cheer more strained. “This weekend, we’ll grab lunch at Junes, on Kaito!”

“Why on me?”

“S-Sounds good,” Shuichi stammers, waving goodbye as they continue down the street, bickering. Akamatsu latches on to Kaito’s arm too tightly. Shuichi stands and watches them until they turn and disappear from sight.

He turns towards Komaeda then, flinching when he finds him already looking back. Komaeda smiles faintly.

“I really am sorry you had to see that especially, Shuichi,” he says, pulling at the sleeve of his suit. Shuichi zeroes in on just how big it seems to be on him. The aftereffects of that dazed, focused place he went after seeing the body are still lingering, and he needs to think about something, anything that isn’t dead. Komaeda keeps talking. Shuichi tries desperately to tune in. “I know it’s presumptuous, but...well, I did a bit of looking you up on top of what Koizumi told Detective Hinata.”

Pause.

“Oh,” says Shuichi.  _ Don’t think about that. _

“It’s just that, you’re living in Detective Hinata’s home, with him and Chi-chan,” Komaeda continues. “And they are so wonderfully trusting. They see the best in everyone. They even let me in.”

“I understand,” says Shuichi. _Focus on the now, Shuichi._

“I, personally, believe that traumatic experiences build character, you know. But, I’ve learned over the years that not everyone...well,” Komaeda clears his throat. “I know that seeing another body was probably the last thing Koizumi wanted when you came here. No matter how admirably you handled the situation last time.”

_ Arms hanging. Legs swinging. Gently. The feeling of vomit in his throat. Walls closing in. Panic. Fingers shaking around the knots tied in- _

_ I don't think I handled it admirably. _

“I’m fine,” Shuichi says forcefully.  _ I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t think about that.  _ He steels himself, hand curling up to press blunt nails into his skin. “What...I mean, do you think that it’s a murder? I thought the police were guarding her?”

“I’m not really sure I should be telling you about the case,” Komaeda says, slipping his hands in his pockets. He flicks his eyes back and forth, not looking at Shuichi anymore. He doesn't turn away though. “Would it do you good?”

_ I don't know. _

“Yes.”

Komaeda hesitates a moment, then nods to himself before speaking.

“We’re probably treating it as a homicide. Could be an accident or a suicide, but the state of the body makes that seem unlikely. They haven’t done an autopsy yet, obviously, so we’ll know more then," he pauses, a hand coming up to his chin. "As for the police guard, that was called off after the debacle with the news station. Miss Ikusaba, her sister and bodyguard, decided that she was better off guarding Miss Enoshima alone. We haven’t been able to find her this morning though. We’re looking. Likely, she’s either also dead, or she’s the one who did it. She never let Miss Enoshima out of her sight. At least, that’s Detective Hinata’s current working theory.”

Shuichi nods, letting the information sink into his head.

“I hope it helped.” Komaeda says carefully. “Knowing the facts...can sometime help.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi answers. He looks up and consciously meets Komaeda’s eyes. It’s hard, but he feels like he should. “Thanks.”

Komaeda blinks, and he looks away first. “Well, why don’t we go make sure that Chi-chan is doing alright? Don’t mention anything to her, okay? Or, well. Don’t mention anything to anyone. This is going to be messy no matter how the investigation goes, and we don’t want any of you three being dragged into it.”

“Right.”

Shuichi’s still processing everything, his mind hazy. He doesn’t realize they’ve reached the door until Komaeda coughs lightly. Shuichi looks up. “Chi-chan locks the door.”

“Oh,” Shuichi says, instantly beginning to fumble around for the key in the front pocket of his bag. He finds it after a moment and slots it into the door. As soon as it opens, running footsteps thunder down the stairs, and Chiaki appears in the foyer, without a game in her hands. Even after less than a day of knowing her, this seems wrong. 

“Uncle Nagi!” she shouts, scrambling on socked feet to slam into him at full force. It makes him stumble back a few steps. “They let us out early and Dad’s not picking up his phone, do you know-”

“Detective Hinata is fine,” Komaeda reassures her quickly, patting her on the head. “He’s just working right now.”

Chiaki doesn’t let him go, instead burrowing her head into his side. Komaeda continues to stroke her hair, but he glances up at the photo on the wall as he does so. “I brought Shuichi back, but I’ve got to go help Detective Hinata some more.”

“Is he gonna be gone tonight?” Chiaki asks, muffled by Komaeda’s shirt.

“I’ll try to come by to make dinner for you both, but your father’s not gonna get a break,” Komaeda answers gently. He pushes lightly at her shoulders, and she squeezes tighter for a second before releasing him and backing away. “You’re gonna help Shuichi, right? He still doesn’t know where anything is.”

Chiaki raises a hand, sleeve pulled over her fingers, to rub at her eyes. “I guess.”

“I’ll call if I won’t be back,” Komaeda says, already retreating through the doorway. “You know how to heat up the stuff in the fridge, just in case?”

“I think so.”

“Alright. Just stay in the house for the afternoon, alright?” And with that, Komaeda is out the door, closing it gently behind him and leaving Shuichi alone with a little girl he barely knows, his head still swirling.

Chiaki is looking down, her face covered by the shadows of her kitty-eared hoodie and the sleeve rubbing across her face.  _ I should...I need to snap out of this right now. Something that will...something to make her happy. _

“W-would you like to play that game again?” Shuichi ventures. He tries to smile when she looks up at him. It feels natural enough. Her own face stays impassive but, after a second, she nods and heads over to the TV to get it set up. It takes a bit, but she starts laughing again eventually, just like she had the previous night.

Detective Hinata does not come back. Komaeda calls at around six in the evening, letting them know that the whole station was working an all-nighter for this case. “The chief wants us ready for anything the press might throw at us tomorrow. Tell Chi-chan that it’s nothing serious.”

“It’s not serious, but your dad has to pull an all-nighter,” he relays to Chiaki

“Tell him that I think he should be taking a break to eat now,” Chiaki says.

“Chiaki wants you to eat,” Shuichi repeats, and Komaeda laughs.

“Tell her I’ll make sure Detective Hinata eats,” he replies. “And makes sure she goes to bed on time.”

The conversation doesn’t last much longer. Upon hanging up, Shuichi passes on both messages to Chiaki. She scowls a little, but it’s dissipated by the time they’ve gotten everything ready for dinner. They watch the show from last night again- it must be a rerun, because Chiaki knows everything that’s going to happen. She keeps checking for his reaction with a big smile during the exciting bits.

“Trash Monster on the Move! is my favorite episode from the first season, I think,” she tells him. “I’ll lend you my DVDs if you want.

“Sure,” he says, and that’s all the warning he gets before Chiaki is shutting off the TV and dragging him up the stairs to her room so she can hand off the DVDs to him. He accepts them cautiously, then leaves her so she can do some homework and he can turn off the lights downstairs. Afterwards, he walks softly into the spare room-  _ my room, I should get used to that. _

It’s still rather early to go to bed, so he checks his email. His mother has written back briefly. He’s surprised- she never has much free time when she’s on assignment. Then again, she had never left him so far behind before. Maybe she misses him. He misses her all of a sudden, like a weight on his chest. He curls up his knees as he scans her words.

_ Hey sweetheart, _

_ Glad you’re settling in okay! Hajime’s a good guy, if a bit of a pushover sometimes. He can get a bit snippy too, at times, but he doesn't really mean it. I haven’t actually met his daughter before, although I got the birth announcement when it happened. I’m sure she’s precious! He insisted on naming her after Chiaki, what a sap. I can’t believe it’s been six years since she passed. She must miss her mother so much. I miss her too. I wish I could have gone to the funeral. _

_ Whoops, didn’t mean to be a downer. I’m doing well here, of course I am, as always. I think I’m going to like this assignment. Not going to tell you more about it though! I want you to be surprised. _

_ Speaking of surprised, you met Komaeda? Jeez, Hajime used to  _ despise _ him. I’m not really sure what their issue was; it was hard to know anything about Komaeda from high school onwards. He was just out so much. Sick, although I guess I never knew what with. I suppose he  _ was _ a little hard to have a conversation with. He just didn’t quite react to things properly. _

_ We went to elementary school together too. I thought he was a big wimp back then. He used to burst into tears whenever anybody got hurt during recess, apologizing like he somehow thought it was his fault. I skinned my knee once, just tripping over a stick, and he carried me on piggyback to the nurse’s office and somehow managed to get himself in trouble even though I insisted he hadn’t tripped me. I had forgotten all about that until now. _

_ Anyway, I’m glad that he and Hajime seem to be getting along though. I do remember that Chiaki used to be the one in charge of bringing Komaeda all his work when he was absent (she was class rep through high school), so maybe they got closer after she and Hajime got married. _

_ Anyway, I love you, my darling. Don’t worry if my replies aren’t as quick after this. I just missed you so much all of a sudden. Please keep sending me updates, all the time! _

_ Love, _

_ Mom _

Shuichi scrunches his nose up, thinking. His hypothesis on the woman in the picture by the door had been confirmed and his question about why Komaeda hadn’t been in the senior year photo had also been answered. His curiosity about everything else in his mother’s email feels pale against the memory of Junko Enoshima’s body.

He tries composing an email back, but he can’t bring himself not to mention the body, even though he knows he’s not supposed to. He should probably wait until they announce it. He wants desperately to confide in her, for her to come back and give him one of her suffocating hugs and tell him that it’ll be alright. He buries his head in his knees and takes a deep breath. Then he saves it in his drafts for now and heads to bed.

-

_ There’s fog everywhere. He can’t see a thing, no distinguishing features, no indication of where to go. Even the floor beneath his feet is flat and grey. He stands, frozen, unable to decide whether to stay or start walking. Even if he moved, which way to turn? Had he been here before? Somehow it’s familiar. _

“Over here.”

_He_ _spins quickly towards the sound of the voice. There is a dark, wavy silhouette in the distance. He can hear sharp clicking footsteps as it walks away. He follows it blindly._

“The time’s not quite right for us to talk. In fact, well, I’m pretty sure my friends are gonna get mad at me for this. But I thought it’d be good to let you know that you’re not alone, right from the start.”

_ He starts running. The silhouette somehow seems as far away as before _ .

“I know things have been hard, Shuichi. Things might stay hard for a while. But I promise, all you have to do is keeping hoping. Find hope in the people around you, and let it make you stronger.”

_ He tries to say something back, to ask a question, but no voice comes out. _

“We’ll talk again soon, Shuichi, I promise. Get a good night’s sleep.”

_ The fog is closing in, choking him. He has to stop and put his hands on his knees, gasping for air. When he looks up again, the silhouette is gone. Instead  _ the eyes  _ stare back. They stare at him blankly but focused somehow, as if they were trying to reach his very soul and burn it within him. He doesn’t want to think about  _ the eyes  _ not now. He clutches at his chest, trying to steady himself. Closer,  _ the eyes _ get closer, and he backs away hastily, arms thrown up, trying desperately to form words to make them get away, stop looking at him. His foot hits thin air. _

_ He falls. _

-

When Shuichi wakes up, neither Detective Hinata nor Komaeda is there. Chiaki has fixed breakfast. He wonders how she reached the counters let alone the cabinets. There’s no stool in the kitchen.  _ Maybe she dragged in a chair _ .

His head is pounding.  _ I feel like I had a nightmare. I can’t remember it very well. _

The news on the TV tells him that the police will be having a press conference at 10 AM. That’ll be when they’re at school. He can’t imagine that much will get done in classes, not when students hear the news. Chiaki is very quiet as she puts on her shoes. She doesn’t even have a game out.

When they open the door, Kaito and Akamatsu are outside the house, hands poised to knock. Chiaki moves to stand behind Shuichi, grabbing on the edge of his jacket and peeking around his legs. Kaito leans down and tries to wave at her, so Shuichi turns his attention to Akamatsu. “What are you two doing here?”

“Neither of us got your phone number, and we wanted to make sure you were okay after…” she pauses, glancing at Chiaki. “Well, we thought it’d be nice to walk in a group!”

“My bike’s not fixed yet either!” Kaito adds, straightening up after being determinedly ignored by Chiaki. “When Detective Komaeda stopped by this morning, he said he’d given it to Officer Soda to fix the brakes. He’s a mechanic on the side, apparently.”

“Komaeda stopped by your house?” Shuichi asks. Chiaki’s hand in his jacket tightens.

“Oh, yeah, he wanted me to give these to you two,” Kaito swings his bag around his shoulder and digs in it for a moment before pulling out two lunches. He holds them out to Shuichi who takes them, surprised. He had thought he would have to stop by the school store. “He surprised me outside my house this morning when I left.”

“Kaito’s shriek was my alarm clock,” Akamatsu snickers.

“I didn’t shriek!” Kaito shrieks. Akamatsu’s snicker becomes a full-fledged laugh, and a blush rises to his face. He coughs a few times, rubbing the back of his neck. “He didn’t look so good, you know. And I wasn’t really awake yet. He looked like a ghost for a second. Not that I’m scared of ghosts. That’s not what I meant.”

“Uh-huh.” Akamatsu is still laughing under her breath, but it’s nervous now. “Ghosts, huh?”

Chiaki’s hand on his jacket tightens even more, and Shuichi glances down at her. Her hood is blocking her expression from his view. Kaito coughs again, and Akamatsu thumps him on the back absently. Shuichi lowers one of the lunches for Chiaki to take, but she doesn’t reach out for it. It dangles from his hand awkwardly. “Well, we’re walking to Chiaki’s school first, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem, it’s on the way,” says Akamatsu brightly, back to normal. “Let’s go!”

The walk is not quite as lively as it had been yesterday, but they don’t encounter anything terrible either.  _ I suppose it balances out.  _ Chiaki leaves without comment when they reach the turn off for her school, ignoring Akamatsu and Kaito calling goodbyes to her. She does give Shuichi a quick hug, just like she had yesterday. She finally snatches the lunch too.

“She seems kinda down, huh?” Akamatsu notes, finger on her chin.

“I wouldn’t know,” says Shuichi, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “I don’t really know what she’s normally like.”

“Why don’t you bring her with you when we go to Junes this weekend?” she suggests. “You guys can come on Sunday. It might be nice to have something to look forward to while her dad’s out. I mean. If it’s safe to go out...”

Her voice had faltered near the end. Shuichi searches for something to say, but Kaito beats him to it, dropping his arms around both of their shoulders. 

“Kaede, that’s a great idea!” he exclaims. 

“Oh? Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh wait, you’re working then too!” Kaito realizes, jostling them both around a bit in enthusiasm. “You can snag us some free food or something.”

“Nope. You’re paying, I already said, don’t try to wriggle out of it!”

“I guess she might like that,” Shuichi muses. “Maybe she can get a new game or something.”

“For her, I’ll do a friends and family discount,” offers Akamatsu, and Kaito gasps, recoiling towards Shuichi. 

“I’ve never gotten a discount!”

“Whoops,” giggles Akamatsu, stumbling about as Kaito shakes her around, demanding free food. 

Shuichi laughs along with them, feeling warm, the sense of unease that had been plaguing him slowly slipping to the back of his mind and the last traces of his headache dissipating. 

He had been right, however, about school. The whispers start up just barely after 10 AM and even Ishimaru-sensei’s most vigorous orders to settle down can’t quash them. Parents are probably texting their kids to check on them. Shuichi sees about half the class staring at their phones. From what he hears, the police had only given the most basic facts, but the rumors are running rampant anyway. The quiet Fujisaki-sensei doesn’t stand a chance while Owada-sensei just continues class with the bullishness of a... _ a bull I guess, maybe a rhino with that hair _ , like he can’t even hear them.

After class, Shuichi has to go to the bathroom while Kaito claims he has to talk briefly with Ishimaru-sensei, so Akamatsu says she’ll wait for them at the gate. When Shuichi’s finished washing his hands and returns to the hallways, he’s suddenly confronted.

“Hey, new boy.”

He looks up from under the brim of his hat, getting a glimpse of the girl he’d met briefly yesterday.  _ Tenko and, uh, Chabashira was her family name. _ She’s got her arms crossed and her legs are evenly apart. Her stance is solid- he wouldn’t be able to shake her even if he rammed into her. He braces himself too, ready for some kind of confrontation.  _ She didn’t seem to like me much yesterday _

“You okay?”

“Huh?” he looks up a little farther to find Chabashira peering at him, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Not that I usually concern myself with how boys like you are feeling, but Kaede likes you so…” she shakes her head. “Anyway, it must suck to come to town right when something like this happens. I didn’t mean to accuse you of murder yesterday, you know. I didn’t think that’s what ‘incident’ meant.”

Shuichi blinks at her, surprised, and her expression sours further. “Listen, I’m going way out of my comfort zone here, the least you could do is reply.”

“Oh. Um. T-thank you for a-asking,” he stammers. He half-expects her to make a comment about it, but she just continues to look at him, waiting for him to finish. “I’m doing okay. I think. We had a few incidents in the city like this. W-well, not exactly like this but…”

He trails off. Chabashira waits a few seconds, like she’s making sure he’s done. “Well, good. You seem kind of faint-hearted, so I was concerned.”

She spins around and begins to walk off, Shuichi gaping after her. He expects her to just continue around the corner and down the stairs, but she comes to a halt just a few feet away and looks back again. “Hey, are you coming? Or do you need to use the bathroom again?”

“I-I’m coming!” he squeaks, hastening forward so he falls in to step just a little behind her.

“Kaede invited me to come on your town tour today, since she mentioned you were curious about the blacksmith,” Chabashira explains. “I figured I might as well. Himiko’s busy at the inn today, and the blacksmith is my family’s store.”

“Y-you make weapons and stuff?” Shuichi asks.

“Well, yeah, but that’s mostly my parents’ hobby. We make a whole bunch of metal products like tools and food trays and also some decorative stuff,” Chabashira suddenly grins. “Mom is a master swordswoman though. She could chop off someone’s head with a bamboo sword alone.”

_ Uh. _

“Is that so,” Shuichi manages.

“I like hand-to-hand combat myself,” she says, one of her hands making a chopping motion towards Shuichi. He jumps out of the way, and she giggles. “It’s more personal!”

“I-I see.”

“I would say that you’re welcome to train with me, but I only train with fellow girls,” she says. “If no one’s going to teach the men of the world to behave any better, then we’ve got to make sure that we’re stronger! No exceptions!”

_ Well, I suppose that’s...I don’t know how to reply to that. _

They change their shoes and head out the doors, where Chabashira suddenly stiffens. “Speaking of men…”

Shuichi looks up. Akamatsu at the front gate, clutching her bag tightly and glancing around desperately. There’s a reporter shoving a microphone in her face and another man who’s got a camera trained on her. Most students are ignoring the scene, some are crowding around to gawk and whisper. Nobody's trying to help.

“We’ve heard that you actually saw Junko Enoshima’s body, is that true?”

“N-n-no, I don’t know anything about the incident, n-no more than anyone else does,” Akamatsu shifts away from the reporter. He replaces the distance in an instant. “I’ve told you that three times now!”

“We heard this from a highly credible source, and we’d like to get your thoughts. What was her body like when you saw it?”

“H-her body? Her body was- I mean, I didn’t see her body!”

“HEY!” screams Chabashira. She takes off running towards the two reporters, letting out a battle cry. They take several steps back, watching her approach with trepidation. Akamatsu looks up too, and Shuichi can see the sheen of tears in her eyes even from this distance. “The hell do you think you’re doing, degenerates!”

“Damn, what’s with these bodyguards lately?” mutters the cameraman. They take off down the road before Chabashira can reach them. She skids to a stop by Akamatsu. Shuichi follows at a jog.

“Those assholes,” Chabashira scoffs. Her tone gentles as she addresses Akamatsu. “Hey, Kaede, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” she mumbles. She glances at Shuichi, her eyes wide and confused. He can read the panicked question in her eyes. It’s the same one he’s got on his mind.

_ Why were they asking her about the body? Who told them that we saw it? _

“Kaede!” Pounding footsteps come up behind Shuichi, and he turns to see Kaito approaching. “Hey, what happened?”

“Some degenerate reporters, that’s what happened,” answers Chabashira. Her tone is seething. “They were asking her about Junko Enoshima’s body, said some sources had told them Kaede had seen it. What stupid jerks. I’m gonna tell my parents about this.”

“They...asked you about her body?” Kaito asks, through unsteady breaths. The three of them share a look behind Chabashira’s back. “Why would...they do that?”

“I’ll tell Detective Hinata or Komaeda about it too,” Shuichi offers. She nods just slightly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves. Kaito scrounges in his pockets, hastily shoving something back in his left pocket as his right one comes up with a crumbled tissue pack. She takes one, padding under her eyes. “We can reschedule my tour if you’re not feeling up to it now, Akamatsu.”

“N-no, I’ve been looking forward to it all day,” Akamatsu insists, crumpling the tissue in her fist. “Not going to let some jerks ruin it for me.”

She links her arm with Chabashira’s as they walk, however, as if for reassurance or protection

They stop by Chiaki’s school first, just catching her at the gate. Her shoulders are hunched, and her face is hidden behind her game system. She stops when Shuichi calls her name, but she doesn’t stop tapping at the buttons. Shuichi crouches down in front of her.

“Did you hear?” he asks softly. He’s honestly not sure. Kids in the city have phones at Chiaki’s age, but he doesn’t know how it is in Inaba yet.

“That’s why Dad’s busy?” she asks, and Shuichi nods.  _ She did hear then.  _ Her shoulders hunch up more. “My friend said that her mom said that everybody has to be home before nightfall from now on. I’m really...I think…”

“We still can go out during the day though,” says Shuichi, worried about the tremor he can hear in her voice. “Um, they’re showing me around town today. Do you want to come or do you want to go home?”

She thinks about it, then shakes her head no. “I want to go home, I think.”

“Will you be okay alone?” Shuichi asks. “I can stay with you.”

“It’s okay. Thanks.”

They all walk her back. He leaves her with his cell number scribbled on a piece of notebook paper, so she can call if she needs to. She accepts it without comment. The door shuts quietly behind her.

“Poor girl, she must be so scared,” murmurs Chabashira. “She’s welcome in my self-defense class, tell her for me, new boy.”

“O-okay, I will.”

-

The first stop is the infamous blacksmith. Chabashira charges in the front door, dragging Akamatsu along with her, and shouts out a greeting. Shuichi follows Kaito, peeking around from behind his back, taking in the wide array of metalworks on display.

The man at the counter is wearing a suit and, when he turns to face them, Shuichi notices the eyepatch on his right eye, the image of a coiling dragon embroidered on the fabric. Despite his smattering of freckles and the roundness of his cheeks, he somehow still cuts an intensely intimidating figure. It might be the knife he’s sharpening, or possibly the way his one eye has laser focused on to Shuichi. It takes a good amount of effort to not turn around and head straight back out the door

“You’re the kid staying with Hajime, right?” he asks. “Koizumi’s kid.”

Shuichi swallows and nods, perhaps a bit too insistently. Shuichi recognizes him now, from his mother’s class picture. He smirks, and the resemblance is uncanny, as long as he ignores the eyepatch.  _ I don’t think he’s grown at all since then _ . 

“Koizumi and I never really got along. Mostly my fault though,” he reaches out a hand to Shuichi, which he hurries forward to take. His grip is intense. At least his eye is now safely hidden behind the brim of Shuichi’s hat.  _ I can still feel the force of it though. _ “Name’s Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Pleasure to meet you.”

“N-not Chabashira?” Shuichi asks, then immediately regrets it. _Mom and I don't have the same last name either._ Luckily, Kuzuryu merely makes a noncommittal hum.

“I’m adopted,” Chabashira offers. 

“Ah, s-sorry for prying,” Shuichi says, finally being released from the handshake. He wishes he could keep his voice steady.  _ Come on, Shuichi, be tough. _ “Um, so you’re a blacksmith, correct?”

“It’s mainly my wife, but I help out,” Kuzuryu waves a hand dismissively. “Usually just by sitting at the counter like this- hey, don’t smudge the glass.”

The last part had been directed at Kaito, who had been peering at the knives display far too closely. His nose had been almost pressed against the glass. He backs up immediately, hands in the air, grinning sheepishly. “I was just trying to see the carvings.”

“Just make sure you leave it so everybody else can see them too,” Kuzuryu sighs, dragging a hand over his face. He leaves it resting on his chin, his expression changing to something more thoughtful as he casts his eye over all of them. “Actually, maybe you should pick something up here, considering what happened. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Tenko knows how to defend herself, but the rest of you don’t seem so capable. Especially you, Kaito,” Kuzuryu pauses, casting his eye over Kaito again, his look suddenly softer. “How you been feeling lately, by the way?

“Fine!” says Kaito, too quickly. He glances at Shuichi, his eyes skittering away when he finds Shuichi looking back. Kaito puffs himself up, thumping his chest. “And I could totally handle someone in a fight.”

“Uh-huh.”

_ He changed the topic back fast.  _ Before he can think anymore of it, Kuzuryu is looking at him again.

“What about you two?” 

“I, uh, have pepper spray,” says Shuichi. He feels irrationally proud of himself when Kuzuryu nods approvingly. Mom had forced it on him when he was ten and started walking to and from school by himself.

“Not for me,” says Akamatsu, still subdued. 

Chabashira suddenly gasps, seizing Akamatsu by the hand. “Dad, there was a reporter at school harassing Kaede at the end of the day.”

“Oh yeah?” Kuzuryu’s eyebrow arches. He stands up off the stool-  _ how can someone so short and baby-faced have such presence and how can I learn how to do that- _ and opens the display case, pulling out one of the pocket knives and then reaching over to press it into Akamatsu’s hand. She looks down at it, as does Shuichi. It’s very beautiful, decorated with delicate music notes. “The blade's short enough that it's okay to carry. If it’s a small town reporter, all you need to do is pull this out. Don’t even open it, just let them know you have it. They’ll scurry like the rats they are. Come by when Peko’s here, and she’ll teach you how to use it. Just don't pull it out when Hajime or the police are around, he'll get mad at me again.”

“I-I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Well, take it anyway,” says Kuzuryu, letting go of her hand. “Better safe than sorry.”

Akamatsu looks down at it again, closing her hand slowly around it.

“That goes for the rest of you too. Come back some other time, and I’ll give you the ‘murderer on the loose’ discount.”

Chabashira claps enthusiastically. Shuichi laughs squeakily.  _ What a terrifying family. _

They go next to the clinic which, judging by the number of animals sleeping behind the counter in crates, seems to be for pets as well as humans. The blonde woman behind the counter is stroking a small dog sitting in her lap.

“Hey Ms. Nevermind!” calls Kaito, rushing up to the counter and leaning over so he can scratch the little dog’s ears. It sighs at him, while the woman smiles. “Is Tanaka out today?”

“He’s feeding the stray cats by the riverbank,” she answers in slightly stiff Japanese. She holds the dog up and offers it to Kaito. He takes it eagerly. “This one does not shed, so it’s good for you to hold.”

Shuichi approaches Kaito cautiously, holding out a hand for the dog to sniff. It lets him scratch its head without complaint.

“Are you Mahiru’s son?” asks Ms. Nevermind, and Shuichi glances up to nod. She clasps her hands together, her eyes twinkling, and rushes out from behind the counter. She grabs his chin gently, making him look up at her. “You do have the same delicate features, although your coloring is quite different.”

Her eyes are very blue, and her hair is a natural blond without even the hint of roots. He stares at her, as she turns his head from side to side.  _ She must be Western. _ His mouth is hanging open in surprise, and he quickly shuts it. When she lets go of his face, he lets his chin fall to his chest, cheeks warm.

“I was surprised she had a child so young, all on her own,” Ms. Nevermind continues. “But she always wanted to be a mother.”

“She’s good at it,” says Shuichi quietly. Ms. Neverland laughs, and it’s a beautiful one.  _ Honestly, she must have come out of a book of fairytales or something _ .

“I know she is!” Ms. Nevermind laughs. "When I was an exchange student here, she helped me learn so much!"

“Who did what?” another voice asks.

Shuichi leans around Ms. Nevermind and spots a giant boy behind the counter, carrying three cat cages, complete with cats, like they weigh no more than a feather. He spots Shuichi and his face breaks out in a smile that seems entirely too boyish for his stature. “Oh hello! Gonta hasn’t met you before.”

“Hey Gonta!” says Kaito.

“Oh! Hello, Kaito,” Gonta says cheerfully. He places the cats down on the floor, unstacking them from each other. They meow at him, and he wiggles his fingers at them, still smiling “Are you showing new kid around town?”

“Yup!” says Akamatsu. She’s come up to Kaito in order to take the dog from his arms. The dog in question seems to be thrilled with the amount of attention they’re getting. “Gonta, this is Saihara Shuichi. He’s going to school with us now.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Shuichi.

“It also nice to meet you, Shuichi!” Gonta exclaims. “Gonta stay longer, but he bringing cats in from the yard. Their fresh air time over.”

“Oh that’s okay,” says Shuichi, watching Gonta go, taking another three empty cat carriers. He pops his head back around the corner a beat later.

“These cats up for adoption,” he says. “Does Shuichi want a cat?”

“Oh, uh,” Shuichi stalls. He walks up to the counter, peering over to see the three cats peering back at him. They’re already judging him. “Well, I’d have to ask Detective Hinata and Chiaki if I could get one.”

“Oh, okay!” says Gonta. “Come back when you know!”

He rounds the corner.

“He works here with us,” explains Ms. Nevermind as she makes her way back around the counter. “He doesn’t go to high school, he said he already knows he wants to work with animals. So Gundham is training him. Oh, Gundham is my husband, by the way.”

“That’s admirable,” says Shuichi.  _ I used to want to be a detective like that. Or. I still do, but... _

“Well, you’re welcome here any time, especially if you like animals,” she offers. “I sometimes think Gonta could use more company his own age. I worry he feels out of place.”

“Gonta’s great!” Akamatsu pipes up. Chabashira nods in agreement, her arms folded.  _ That’s a pretty ringing endorsement if even Chabashira likes him that much _ .

-

After that, they show him the gym (“I see Fujisaki-sensei, Owada-sensei, and Ishimaru-sensei training there a lot, it’s kind of awkward,” says Chabashira), the best local food (“Steak!” cries Kaito, shaking a fist in the air), the shrine (“Angie’s training to be a shrine maiden there,” says Chabashira, her tone strangely down. “She’s in my class.”), the police station (“Let’s not go near there right now, okay?” Akamatsu hedges), the fabric store (“Madame Celeste is weird,” stresses Kaito), and more. 

Chabashira splits off from them when they get to the Yumeno Inn, saying she’s going to “help Himiko do her chores! She’s too lazy, so she never gets them done!” Kaito makes a “Hime-sama” joke and gets a swift chop to the neck.

Shuichi’s head is spinning with information by the end of it, when they finally reach Junes.

“I know we’re coming here Sunday, but it’s definitely the shining jewel of Inaba!” exclaims Akamatsu, extending her arms wide. “It’s got everything. People are worried it’s gonna run everything else out of business. I don’t know. I think it’s probably an overreaction...even if it is a little out of place.”

They’d had plenty of Junes stores and others like it in the city, but it feels different here. All the other stores had been small and family-owned. Entering Junes feels like he’s left Inaba behind somehow. His skin crawls. Maybe it’s just that the city itself had felt so different by the time he left. It’s all creeping back up on him. He puts his hands on the back of his neck, trying to dispel the feeling of someone staring at him.

“Akamatsu, I thought you were off today.”

Shuichi follows the voice to a tall boy with tousled hair and several piercings. He’s taken aback by the sight of him. Just like Junes itself, he feels different. Like he doesn’t quite fit Shuichi’s current image of Inaba. It’s not the same feeling though. He doesn’t make Shuichi feel bad. If anything, Shuichi feels calmer than before, his arms dropping back to his sides. It’s just that he doesn’t look like someone who lives in a small town, despite the orange Junes apron.  _ He looks like an idol, acting in a drama about living in a small town. That’s what it is. _

Shuichi realizes he’s staring and quickly looks to the floor again. Luckily, the boy hadn’t seemed to notice.

Akamatsu places her hands on her hips. “I could say the same to you, Amami! What are you doing here? You’re working when I get here, you’re working when I leave, you’re working when I’m  _ not  _ working. I know you’re the manager’s son, but still.”

He chuckles, holding up his hands. “I’m just covering for one of my sisters today. She had a date.”

“You shouldn’t let them push you around so much!”

“What is an older brother for if not to be pushed around by his sisters?”

“You and your sister complex…”

Akamatsu heaves a heavy sigh. It feels like they might have had this argument before. Meanwhile, Shuichi has noticed that his nails are painted purple, and he’s wearing a few rings.  _ I wonder how you coordinate rings. I’ve never worn jewelry. Do you have to do it by like size? Or color?  _ Amami’s shoulders turn slightly as he looks towards them. “Hi Momota. And…”

He trails off, and Shuichi looks away from the boy’s fingers to brave lifting his head, one hand coming up to hold the brim of his hat. When about half of the other boy’s face is visible again, Shuichi smiles awkwardly, eyes fixing on his earrings. They’re black and silver. “H-hello.”

“Hello,” says Amami. 

_ Ah, this is where I introduce myself, isn’t it? Come on. I did this just yesterday.  _ Shuichi coughs to clear his throat. “Um, well…” __

Kaito’s arm lands heavy on his shoulder, cutting him off. Shuichi takes a grateful gulp of air. “This is Shuichi Saihara. And come on, man, haven’t I told you like eight times? You can just call me Kaito.”

“Right, sorry,” says Amami. “You’re the transfer student then?”

With Kaito right next to him, Shuichi feels a little more at ease. He lifts his head the rest of the way, focusing on Amami’s nose this time. It’s perfectly straight. “Y-yes, that’s me. I just moved here two days ago. F-for the year.”

“Oh yeah? I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around yet.”

“Amami’s a grade above us,” Akamatsu explains.

“No need for any honorifics though, please,” Amami adds, chuckling a little, one hand coming up to scratch at his cheek. “It’s not like I’m that much older.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Shuichi softly. He finally meets Amami’s gaze. Amami smiles, the sides of his eyes crinkling kindly. 

“Wish you could have come here under better circumstances. I just moved here eight months ago myself,” Amami says. “Arriving during a murder case isn’t exactly the ideal, I imagine. ”

“H-hopefully it gets wrapped up soon though,” says Akamatsu. She lowers her voice to whisper conspiratorially. “I mean, it must have been her sister, right?” 

Something in Shuichi’s gut pulls at that. It just feels wrong. Komaeda had said that yesterday too, but the more it's sat with him, the more wrong it's felt. Amami’s eyes drift off to the side, his smile fading, tapping a finger against the side of his head as he speaks. “I don’t know. Feels strange to do it while she’s in Inaba if it’s her sister. She’ll be suspicious no matter what if her sister ends up murdered, why do it publicly and why in a small town? Does feel kind of personal though. Someone sending a message…” 

He trails off, the focus coming back to his eyes. He holds his hands up, laughing a little. “Oh. Uh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to…”

“That’s true,” says Shuichi, thinking about it, fingers resting on his chin. He lets that pull in his gut carry him, speaking his thoughts out loud. “The power lines are so specific. I mean, it must have been a real hassle to get her up there in the first place. It must have a message unless it’s some elaborate ruse to throw the investigation off. And it seems like they haven't determined a clear cause of death, since they apparently skirted around the topic in the press conference-”

“Okay!” says Kaito, cutting him off, and Shuichi snaps back in again. Amami is staring at him with a hard to read expression, his hands still up where they'd been when he stopped talking, but his fingers now curled slightly into his palms. Akamatsu, on the other hand, looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I’m- I’m so sorry!” Shuichi blurts out helplessly. “I didn’t-”

“I’m fine,” she says quietly. She shakes her head and smiles. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m mostly surprised! I didn’t know you could talk so long without stuttering, Saihara!”

His cheeks heat up. “Uh, um...well…”

“There you go again!” she laughs. “It actually made me feel a little better. I mean, even if it wasn’t her sister, you’re both saying it was targeted at Junko Enoshima specifically, right? So it’s probably not a serial killer at least.”

“Uh, probably not,” says Amami. He studies his nails for a moment.  _ I’m not sure he’s convinced on that. I don’t know either. _ His hand goes up to tug at a lock of his hair, and, like a switch flipping, a smile comes back to his face. “Speaking of mysteries, any of you guys checked out the Midnight Channel?”

“W-what’s that?” asks Kaito. “I mean. Doesn’t sound scary at all. I mean. What?”

“It’s not spooky, Momota. At least I don’t think so,” Amami reassures him. “Before...well, before today, it’s all my class was talking about.”

“I might have heard someone mention it,” muses Akamatsu. “What is it?”

“Apparently, if you look at the screen of your turned-off TV at exactly midnight on a rainy night, it will reveal to you a silhouette of your soulmate,” Amami makes a jazz hands motion. “Somebody was even claiming they saw Junko Enoshima herself a few days ago.”

“Sounds like someone was having a dream,” says Kaito, nervously.

“Maybe,” says Amami, tilting his head. “Maybe not.”

-

They part ways soon after that as Amami is called over the intercom to a different section. The sun is starting to lower in the sky, so they head out. Akamatsu and Kaito walk him back to Detective Hinata’s house, waving and calling goodbyes as he opens up the door and steps inside. There, Shuichi finds Chiaki doing the laundry and Komaeda asleep on the couch. Detective Hinata is also there, shoveling food in his mouth from his seat on the floor, eyes on the news. He puts it down as Shuichi enters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hey Shuichi. Where were you?” he asks.

“My friends were giving me a tour,” Shuichi says, taking a seat on the floor by the table. “What are you doing back here?”

“The chief gave us a couple of hours to take a break,” he answers. Komaeda takes a deep breath behind him, rolling over. Detective Hinata glances back at him, watching until he settles again. He turns back to Shuichi, eyes downcast. “I wanted to apologize for yelling at you yesterday.”

“Y-you don’t have to-”

“No, it was unwarranted, “ Detective Hinata smiles ruefully. There’s a piece of rice stuck on his chin. “He never says anything outright, but Komaeda has been sending me disappointed looks since then when he thinks I’m not paying attention. And when Komaeda thinks you were too callous, you were  _ definitely _ being too callous. I hope you know I was just concerned about you three.”

Shuichi makes a humming noise that he hopes communicates understanding. His fingers fidget and pick at his fingernails in his lap. Detective Hinata seems equally at a loss, shoving another bite of rice into his mouth and chewing it. He watches Chiaki take the laundry off the lines outside. “Mahiru told me a bit of what happened before you came here. You did a very brave thing, Shuichi.”

“I- yeah. I guess,” Shuichi says. Desperately, he scrambles for another topic before Detective Hinata can continue that line of conversation. That’s when he remembers. “Oh! Something happened today-”

_ We got an exclusive scoop that a group of high school students accidentally stumbled across the crime scene of Junko Enoshima yesterday. Our reporter managed to talk with one of them: _

_ “N-n-no, I don’t know anything about the incident, n-no more than anyone else does!” _

Her face is blurred, but it’s clearly Akamatsu. Detective Hinata turns up the volume, looking at Shuichi sharply. Shuichi grabs at his hat, looking at the floor instead. “Um, well, that’s what happened.”

“You didn’t say anything to anyone, did you?” Detective Hinata asks sharply. Komaeda rolls over again, his eyes barely slits, but now awake. “I mean, I don’t think any of you did, but tell me if you let it slip, Shuichi.”

“I-I didn’t,” Shuichi manages. “I didn’t even tell Mom.”

Detective Hinata stands up, bowl in his hand, bringing it to the kitchen. In the background, Akamatsu’s interview is broken up by Chabashira’s yell, and they cut back to the newscaster. Komaeda sits up painfully slowly, his voice dry and crusty as he speaks. “What’s going on?”

Detective Hinata returns with a tall glass of water and a couple of pills, less than the ones Shuichi had seen Komaeda take in the morning. He kneels and holds them out to Komaeda who recoils. “You didn’t have to bring me-”

“Yeah, but I did, now take it,” Komaeda extends his hands carefully, avoiding touching Detective Hinata’s hand as he grasps the glass of water. Detective Hinata pours the pills into his other hand. Shuichi watches this all unfold with curiosity. “We need to get back to the station, so take them. They found out that the kids saw the crime scene, know at least one of them by name. The chief is probably gonna call-”

At that moment, his phone chirrups from his pocket, and Detective Hinata sighs. “Speak of the devil.”

He picks up the phone with a brusque greeting, again moving back to the kitchen. Komaeda slides off the couch to sit on his knees on the floor, pouring his pills on to the table.

Chiaki comes in with a basket of clean clothes piled almost as tall as she is. Once she puts it down, she takes in Komaeda swallowing his pills one after the other and her father on the phone, and her face crumples. She throws her arms around Komaeda’s neck, slamming all her weight against his back and almost making him spit out his mouthful of water. “Do you have to go back to the station?”

“Looks like it,” Komaeda answers. His voice has returned to mostly normal. 

Chiaki turns her face into his shoulder, obscuring it. Komaeda hesitates over his last pill, swallowing it and then lifting a hand to ghost across her hair. 

“Chiaki,” Shuichi speaks up. She shifts so she can peer at him, expression unreadable. “Um, Kaito and Akamatsu were going to take me to Junes on Sunday. Would you like to come along with us?”

She’s still silent, still unreadable. He continues, feeling like he’s grasping at straws. “We’ll get food and...find a game we can play together?”

It takes long enough that Shuichi has almost sunken into the floor, but she finally nods. She detaches herself from Komaeda and picks back up the laundry. It’s impressive how little she stumbles on the way up the stairs. Komaeda throws back the remainder of his water, and Detective Hinata returns from the kitchen, rubbing his temples. “Time to go, Komaeda. I think the chief might murder Soda before we get there.”

“But it’s not his fault,” Komaeda shakes his head as he stands slowly, taking his empty glass with him. “I probably left something lying around and a reporter found it. I need to be less forgetful.”

“That’s not-” Detective Hinata cuts off with a sharp huff, his temple rubbing increasing in pressure. “Whatever, go ahead, the chief never listens to your bullshit anyway.”

Komaeda flinches violently, clutching his glass tightly in both hands. “I-”

“Let’s go.”

Detective Hinata stalks over to the entryway, sliding his shoes and jacket on in a smooth motion, then makes his way out the door. Komaeda flinches again at the slam, but he follows after a moment, placing his glass on the kitchen counter. He turns back to Shuichi, like he’s just remembered he’s there. “Uh, tell Chi-chan her dad loves her, okay?”

“Yeah,” says Shuichi slowly.  _ He could have done that himself, couldn’t he have _ ? Komaeda slips on his shoes and jacket considerably more clumsily than Detective Hinata, then looks towards the picture on the wall. His expression crumples. He doesn’t address the woman this time, ducking his head and rushing his way out the door, closing it softly behind him. Shuichi stares after him. To no one, he says: “See you later.”

He goes upstairs to help Chiaki put away the laundry and tell her stories about his tour. He manages to get her smiling before it’s time to go to bed.

-

Friday is not much better than Thursday had been in terms of school. In fact, it might be worse, as Shuichi and Kaito end up spending much of the day guarding Akamatsu from their schoolmates and their questions. Well, Shuichi doesn’t do much besides refuse to pass a few notes to her desk, but she gives him grateful looks for doing so. He tries to pay attention to the lesson but mostly ends up scribbling down random snippets of the lecture in the hopes he’ll be able to understand it later. 

Kaito has to talk to another teacher at the end of the school day, so Shuichi finds himself standing with Akamatsu at the school gate. He wishes desperately that Chabashira would show up and take the job of guard away from him. His glare is nonexistent.  _ The first step in a glare is actually being able to look at someone after all. _

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Akamatsu frowning at him. He leans away from her. “What?”

“Why do you wear that hat, Saihara?” she asks. He blinks. She blinks back, then she seems to realize what she’s said. The question must have just slipped out. “Oh, I mean- I don’t want to pry, it’s just that you’ve worn it every day since you’ve gotten here and-”

She cuts off with a huff of laughter, pressing her hands together and gazing downwards. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Shuichi stares into middle distance and silence falls. 

“It’s just easier this way,” he says finally.  _ All those eyes. Looking at him. Searing him. Burning him alive _ . “I just. Don’t like looking people in the eyes and. It’s easier this way.”

Somehow, without him consciously deciding to, he continues. “Something...bad happened at my school in the city. And I found...well. I decided I needed to get justice, or something, so...I did. And then they...everyone looked at me like I was the devil.”

“But they did something bad, right?” Akamatsu prompts softly. “You’re not the devil.”

“But. I ruined their lives,” he swallows. “Maybe I was...just doing it for my...It’s just I couldn’t help thinking afterwards that I should have stayed out of it. And...everybody stared at me, too. They stared at me like…”

He trails off. He doesn’t know how to say it. He’s never had to tell this story.

“And then you moved here.”

Her voice is so kind. Shuichi can’t bear to listen.

“I just have trouble looking people in the eyes,” Shuichi concludes hastily. He ducks his head again. He doesn’t know what possessed him to speak about it. He can feel the  _ eyes  _ all around him, some blank, some burning, all of them pressing in to him. If he looks up, he’ll see them.  _ If I look up, they’ll see me _ .  _ They’ll see all the darkest parts of me. _

“Shuichi,” says Akamatsu. He startles at the use of his first name, looking at her knees beside him. One of them nudges his leg. “You were brave. You did what was right.”

“You can’t know that,” he protests softly.  _ I don’t even know that. _

“Sure I can.”

He looks up a little farther, to her shoulder, as she continues. “Try to look up a little more, if you can. It’s nice to see your eyes.”

He lifts his head even farther until he’s looking at her straight. The only eyes on him are hers, and they are soft and gentle. The expression on her face makes him want to cry. She giggles, reaching out to poke him in the cheek. “After all, they’re such pretty ones.”

She makes it sound like she means it.

“Hey guys, thanks for waiting!” Kaito’s voice rings out, breaking the moment. Akamatsu looks away, and Shuichi takes the moment to swipe his sleeves over his face. “I miss anything?”

“Nothing whatsoever,” says Akamatsu, and he feels intense gratitude. “Let’s go home!”

-

After a couple of hours of tossing and turning that night, Shuichi gets up with a frustrated sigh. It’d been another quiet night, with Komaeda and Detective Hinata both still busy at the station. He’d helped Chiaki heat up their dinners, and then they’d done homework together.

“Maybe it’s just the new room,” he says out loud. The sound of the rain outside is driving him crazy.  _ I don’t feel like I’ve gotten a single good night’s sleep since moving here. Although I can’t remember the last time I ever got a good night’s sleep. _

He settles on the lumpy chair in front of the television, pulling out the DVDs of Feathermen that Chiaki had given him. He stares at the garish packaging, flipping it over to read the description on the back with the flashlight on his phone.

_ Once a group of ordinary bird watchers, the Phoenix Ranger Feathermen were gifted with great abilities by the Great Phoenix they found after stumbling down a hole in the forest. Now the team must work together to vanquish evil and save the day. The R series marks a highpoint for the franchise, widely agreed to be the peak of its storytelling. Can the team withstand a mysterious threat from within? Find out on Neo Phoenix Ranger Featherman R! _

That sounds incredibly mindless. Perfect.

Crackle. Whine. Crackle.

Shuichi looks up from his computer to find his television on, displaying nothing but static. It sounds a little weird, like the normal noise has gotten warped somehow.  _ Maybe it’s just old. _ Shuichi stands, looking around to see if he accidentally hit the remote with his foot or leg. It’s dark, except for the light of the TV and the flashlight from his phone. There’s nothing coming in from the windows, even though he swears there were street lamps before.

The TV whines again, and Shuichi walks up to turn it off manually before it can make his headache worse. 

But that’s when he sees it.

A shape.

He watches, transfixed, as the wavering shape of a girl appears on the screen. She looks like she’s in pain, maybe, although it’s hard to tell from just the silhouette. Her arms are grabbing her head and she’s moving from side to side. She could be laughing, too. It’s not clear enough to tell.

He doesn’t realize that he’s reached his hand out until it’s touching the screen. Only, there’s no resistance. He doesn’t feel the pads of his fingers smush against the cool glass. Instead his hand just keeps going, disappearing into the static. 

Time freezes as he stares at it.

Snapping back to reality, he jerks his arm back out violently, stumbling back and tripping over the table, smacking his head against the couch and wrenching his neck. When he sits back up again, eyes wide, the static and the image are gone. Light filters in from outside as if it had always been there. 

He frantically slides through his phone to turn off the flashlight then dives for his bed, burying himself under the covers childishly, his heart racing.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but, at some point, he does.

-

He wakes up to the sounds of pounding coming from downstairs. He squints at his phone. It’s still fifteen minutes until his alarm. His door bursts open to reveal Chiaki in her nightgown, her usually blank face filled with anxiety.

“Someone’s at the door,” she whispers.

Shuichi swings himself out of bed, glancing around the room for anything he might use to defend himself. There’s a broom in the corner, probably from when Detective Hinata had been trying to clean the room up. He grabs it-  _ what am I going to do with this, exactly? Ah, it’s better than nothing _ \- and creeps his way down the stairs, Chiaki on his heels. She hovers on the stairs as he approaches the door, slowly unlocking it and then pulling it open in a sudden jolt.

Kaito literally falls in, fists still outstretched and gasping for breath in a way that doesn’t sound healthy. Shuichi drops the broom and crouches next to him. “K-Kaito, you scared us! What are you doing here!”

Kaito tries to speak, but his breath is coming way too harshly. Shuichi reaches out to rub his back tentatively, not sure what to do. “Did you run here? Chiaki, can you get a glass of water?”

She nods, her expression settling, tiptoeing around them to get into the kitchen. Shuichi pats Kaito’s back again then pulls him in further so he can close the door.

“Kaede,” Kaito gasps. “Kae-”

Shuichi takes the glass of water from Chiaki, extending it out to Kaito. He takes it and drains it. When he breathes again, it still sounds off, but it’s more under control. “Kae- did you see-”

“Did I see Kaede?” Shuichi puts together. Kaito nods like a bobblehead. “Not since we parted ways yesterday, why?”

“She- she’s-”

Kaito takes a deep breath, his eyes wide and strained against his pale face.

“She’s gone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find Komaeda and Chiaki to be the most difficult to write because they're the most removed from their canon selves. Chiaki because...well, because she's a child in this fic (or at least her living version), and Komaeda because so much of his canon personality is built around Ultimates and Hope's Peak...which doesn't exist in this fic. I've tried to identify their key personality traits and apply them to this more "normal" world, and hopefully I've done a good job.
> 
> On a separate note, I find great joy in making nonsensical families between the DR2 adults and the DRV3 kiddos. Peko, Fuyuhiko, and Tenko is the most dangerous family around.
> 
> I'll see you again on May 3 for Chapter 3!


	3. A World Behind the Screen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession to make. Once you start writing fic again, it’s really hard to stop. Since I started posting this, I’ve had ideas and even made tentative outlines for two oneshots and two multichapter fics and why am I doing this, I don't know, there’s no way I have time to write any of them while I’m working on this monster of a fic (and you know finding time for original stuff), but I can’t stop thinking about them anyway.
> 
> Please laugh at my hardship and don’tmurdermeforwhathappensinthischapterkthnx

There are more words after that, gasped out as Kaito is led over to the couch by Shuichi’s hand on his wrist and arm around his back. Shuichi listens to them as best he can, letting them join the spiraling thoughts dancing through his mind. Chiaki has refilled the glass of water, and Kaito takes it gratefully as he collapses on the couch. Shuichi lets go of him, instead fumbling for his cell phone in his pocket. He finds where his mom saved Detective Hinata’s number in his phone pretty easily. He doesn’t have many contacts.

“Hello, Detective Hajime Hinata’s phone, this is his partner speaking. I can take a message.”

“Komaeda?”

“Shuichi?” he hears a shuffle over the phone like Komaeda shifting in his chair. “Shouldn’t you be headed to school now? Do you need Detective Hinata for something?”

“N-no, I can give you the message,” Shuichi stutters. He glances back at Kaito on the couch. He’s driving his thumbs into his eyebrows, breathing steadily. _It looks like the color’s coming back to his face, that’s good_. Chiaki sits next to him, tapping at her game and occasionally glancing at their visitor out of the corner of her eye. She’s holding her system slightly to the side, as if to let Kaito watch, even though he’s not paying attention. “Um, Kaito’s here. He says he can’t find Akamatsu.”

There’s a pause and another shift, like Komaeda’s standing up. “Let me go get Detective Hinata.”

“Will it take long?” Shuichi asks. There’s an edge of desperation in his voice that he wishes he could silence. He feels shaky. _I really want to get off the phone_ . _I don’t want Detective Hinata to push and prod at me._ He hears the steps on the other side of the line come to a halt. _I can’t say that though, think of an excuse, Shuichi._ “I-I don’t want to forget anything while you’re getting him. Can you just...can you just take a message?”

There’s movement again after another moment, footsteps, the creak of a chair as Komaeda sits down again, and then what might be a notebook flipping open. “Okay. Just a few questions, Shuichi. Did he try calling her? Maybe she left early this morning.”

Shuichi tries desperately to remember what Kaito had told him. He glances over to the couch and finds two pairs of eyes looking at him. His eyes skirt away again.

“He says...that they made plans to walk to school together this morning since his bike is still being repaired, and...and when she was late, he went by her house. N-nobody was there. Her parents are on a business trip,” Shuichi swallows, listening to the sound of pen on paper on the other side of the line. His hands are trembling now. He clasps them both over the phone, trying to make them stop. _Pull it together._ He speaks faster. “So he called her, but it went straight to voicemail, but apparently she never turns her phone off, and he called some of her friends too, on his way over here, but none of them had heard from her.”

“Okay,” says Komaeda. “Okay. Anything else?”

“No,” says Shuichi. Kaito’s watching Chiaki play now, sort of. Moving away from them a little, Shuichi lowers his voice and cups a hand over the receiver. “H-He was really freaked out.”

_I’m really freaked out._

“Okay,” says Komaeda again. His tone is smooth and matter-of-fact, and Shuichi latches on to that calm as much as he can. “I’m going to go tell Detective Hinata.”

“O-okay.”

There’s a pause. Shuichi focuses on his breathing. _Why isn’t he hanging up? Why isn’t he saying anything? Should I be saying something?_

“Why don’t you three stay home today?” Komaeda says finally, starting Shuichi out of his thoughts.

“Won’t we get in trouble if we skip?” Shuichi asks nervously.

“I’ll take care of it. Just stay there.”

“O-okay.”

“Shuichi, it’s going to be okay,” Komaeda continues. He says it like he’s really sure that it’s true, like a promise. “Even when things are bad, it’ll all come back to being okay in the end. That’s my experience at least. ”

 _It hasn’t been mine_ , Shuichi almost says back, but he bites his tongue on it.

“Call back if you need anything. Detective Hinata has me watch his phone when he can’t, so somebody will pick up.”

“Okay.”

Shuichi hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. He’s started to feel a little sick. His throat is tight. He walks unsteadily over to Kaito. He watches Shuichi approach with a crease between his eyebrows, arms in an aborted motion, like he wants to push himself off the couch. Shuichi makes his way around the table, collapsing on the couch next to Kaito and then grabbing at his chest and curling up his knees. _She’s fine. She’s probably fine. She has to be fine. Komaeda says it’ll be okay. Rationally speaking, it’s probably not related to Junko Enoshima. What would the connection be? Besides her seeing the body. What would that matter though? All the police officers saw the body too, way more closely than us three. There’s no reason to silence-_

“Bro, you’re not looking so good,” Kaito says. Shuichi glances up at him. Somehow, almost all the panic has evaporated from Kaito’s face, transforming into concern. Shuichi watches the last of it disappear, like Kaito’s physically pushing it away. Kaito smiles to replace it, eyes wrinkling kindly, patting Shuichi’s shoulder with one hand as he holds out his glass of water with the other. “Here, have the rest.”

Shuichi waves his hands weakly, trying to reject the offer, but Kaito just holds it out insistently until Shuichi acquiesces. The hand on Shuichi’s shoulder squeezes comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to freak you out when I came in. I’m sure she’s fine! She’s probably mad at me or something, so she must have just gone on ahead. She’s done that plenty of times before. The police will find her!”

Shuichi nods. _I don’t know. It could be- no, don’t think about it. It won’t be like that. Komaeda says it’ll be okay. Kaito says she’ll be okay._

“Komaeda said that we should all just stay home,” he says. His voice is dry, and he takes a sip of water. It does make him feel better.

“Sounds good!” says Kaito, driving a fist into his other hand. His enthusiasm is over-the-top. “Hey Chiaki, you got a game we could all play?”

“You want to play a game?” Shuichi asks. Chiaki’s already clicking off her handheld system, springing off the couch to fiddle with the TV. “Now?”

“If we just sit waiting for the detectives to call back, we’ll drive ourselves crazy,” says Kaito. He smiles wider.  _It's just his mouth. He's pretending._ Chiaki glances back at them, looking at Shuichi with shuttered, worried eyes. _How did I end up being the one comforted in this situation?_ _It doesn’t seem fair._ _I’m not the one with the detective father or the missing best friend._ Kaito continues, oblivious to the boiling guilt in Shuichi’s stomach. “A watched phone never rings, you know? We’ve got the whole day to kil- uh, to waste. Plus I gotta make it up to Chiaki for scaring her this morning. They’ll find Kaede at school, you’ll see. Just an hour, two hours tops.”

They play games all day. The phone never rings.

Three weeks go by. They don’t find her.

The first week, the disappearance is all anyone can talk about. The school is full of whispers. People are called in for questioning, Shuichi and Kaito included. As Shuichi had assumed, Detective Hinata gets a bit too intense during questioning. He stands up and paces the room, leaving Shuichi to wring his hands and stutter through his answers. He tries to focus on Komaeda’s placid smile instead of Detective Hinata's suspicious scowl. Komaeda doesn’t ask Shuichi any questions, just sits in the corner with a notepad and paper, scribbling down his answers. Komaeda breathes deeply and evenly and obviously. Shuichi tries to match it. He doesn’t know if Komaeda’s doing it on purpose to calm him down, or if that's just the way he breathes, but it helps.

The emptiness of Akamatsu’s desk is stark and painful. Shuichi worries endlessly. He writes his mom back finally, and she’s just as worried about him. The words in her email are careful and measured. She’s tiptoeing around him. The guilt keeps bubbling.

The second week, the school moves on. Akamatsu’s desk stays empty, but nobody pays it much attention. There are rumors that the police think she must have simply run away. Everyone starts to think she’ll be back soon enough.

“Some sort of rebellious phase, I guess.”

“I never thought Akamatsu was the type!”

“I wonder if she did it for a boy.”

“You think a part-time slot at Junes will open up? I’ve been needing a job.”

“Maybe she and Rantaro Amami ran off together.”

“Don’t be stupid, he’s still here. I saw him working yesterday.”

“I’d run off if Rantaro Amami asked me to though.”

“Shh, his sisters will hear you, stupid!”

Kaito keeps his smile up, but it’s straining around the edges. It's more like he's baring his teeth. Shuichi sees Chabashira in the hall, silent and sticking closer to Yumeno than ever.

The guilt inside Shuichi’s chest just expands and expands. He doesn’t even know what he feels guilty for anymore. Everything. Anything

Detective Hinata has been back in the evening twice, and he’d been silent, eating dinner or taking a nap on the couch before heading back to work. He comes back late at night too, probably to sleep. He’d woken Shuichi up once with a crashing sound and muffled curses, presumably when he knocked a dish to the floor in the kitchen. Shuichi’s afraid to ask him how the investigation is going.

Komaeda calls every day to check in on them both, and he’s been back to make dinners a few times, calling ahead so Shuichi can let him in. Shuichi had helped him pack away noodles in portion-sized plastic containers silently. He couldn’t get any questions to come out. Komaeda doesn't offer any answers.

It makes him guilty, even more guilty. _If I knew more, maybe I could think of something- but what if it’s just like last time?_

He has to take Chiaki shopping at Junes in the middle of the week, because they’re out of stuff for breakfast. They stop by the game section too, and Shuichi lets her pick something out. She tries to involve him in the decision, but he finds it hard to focus. She still picks something they can play together

Amami is running the register when they check out, and he undercharges them without comment. He doesn’t ask how Shuichi’s doing, just smiles and hands over the bags. Shuichi doesn’t ask how he’s doing either, but he tries to smile back. There’s posters up all around the store. Posters for a sale on TVs coming up that weekend. Missing posters for Akamatsu. Posters declaring that Junes is looking for part-time help.

Kaito is around a lot. He keeps repeating that mantra from the first day: “They’ll find her today, you’ll see. If not today, then tomorrow!” He acts way too normal, so normal that it circles back to strange again. His teeth stay bared.  _He’s putting on a brave face for my sake_ , Shuichi thinks. The guilt rises and rises. _He has more right to be upset than I do._

The third week comes. It’s been raining a lot. Kaito’s walking him home from school. He’s been doing that a lot, walking him to and from school a lot, staying at Detective Hinata’s house with Shuichi and Chiaki until the sun starts to set and he’s got to run to make the police-enforced curfew. Shuichi doesn’t say anything about it. _It’s gotta be the least I can do for him._

The misting rain patters on their umbrellas. It’s kind of soothing, honestly. Shuichi can just let himself get lost in it, clearing his mind of all the worries and the memories and the _eyes-_

“Hey,” says Kaito, snapping Shuichi out of his daze. “You want to go by Junes?”

“Huh?” Shuichi says, fiddling with his hat. “Uh, I guess. Chiaki has video game club today, so she said I didn’t have to pick her up. Why, do you need something there?”

“Well, I’d been thinking about getting a TV for my room. I think I mentioned it before,” Kaito says. “I’ve gotten enough of my allowance saved up, and they’ve got a TV sale going on until next weekend. I thought I’d go look and see what I could afford.”

Shuichi thinks about it. The other option is sitting alone in Detective Hinata’s house, trying to force himself to study and mostly staring into space.

“Sure, why not.”

Junes is as busy as always. Amami’s sitting at the information desk, painting his nails a dark blue. He looks up as they approach him, capping the nail polish and smiling. “Hey Momota, hey Saihara.”

“Hey!” says Kaito. “And, dude, again, you can just call me Kaito!”

“Ah, sorry.”

“I like your nails,” says Shuichi quietly.

Amami holds up the bottle carefully, fingers dramatically outspread to keep them from smudging against anything. “You want to try it? I can paint yours for you if you want.”

Shuichi pulls his hat down, looking to the side. “I don’t think it’d suit me very well.”

“Hm, maybe you’re right,” Amami muses. Shuichi looks down at his hands. His nails are ragged from how much he picks at them. He’d probably chip all the nail polish off before it could even dry all the way. “I think you might be more of a pastel kind of person.”

“Pastel?” asks Shuichi. _What part of me gives off that kind of impression? What kind of impression even is that?_ Amami offers no explanation, placing the nail polish bottle back on the desk again and smiling expectantly. Shuichi feels heat rising to his face, and he’s not even sure why. He moves his hands around, not sure where to put them. “Uh, well, for now, we’re just looking for the TV section.”

“TVs? Second floor, to the right of the escalators,” says Amami. “You’ll probably be the only customers there. Nobody buys TVs here for some reason. Hence the sale we’re trying. Hasn’t been very successful so far. I guess everybody has one already.”

“Well, not me!” declares Kaito. “I’ll be your first TV customer.”

Amami smiles. “Looking forward to it.”

He waves goodbye as they move on. Shuichi looks back over his shoulder to see him uncapping the nail polish again and continuing where he’d left off. Shuichi glances over at Kaito. “What does being a pastel kind of person mean?”

“Bro, I am _not_ the right person to help you with that, I don’t even know what pastel means.”

The TV sections is as deserted as Amami had said it would be, although Shuichi sees a few heads in the neighboring DVD section, including a green ribbon that looks familiar. Distracted, he almost slips on the wet floor, but Kaito catches him before he can wipe out. He spots the sign afterwards. They must have mopped recently. _They really should have put that in a more obvious place._

They move forward more carefully, and Shuichi leans against the corner of an aisle as Kaito wanders down the row of display units, rubbing his chin at the prices. He stares into a black television screen, looking as his darkened reflection. _Honestly, what did he mean by pastel?_ He steps a little closer, squinting. _I look soft maybe? Is that a compliment? Doesn’t really sound like a compliment._ His own face stares impassively back at him, giving away nothing. He makes a face at it. It makes the face back. And suddenly that’s when he remembers, in a startling burst of clarity.

_The figure on the screen. He’d reached his arm out and it’d gone through._

With everything going on with Akamatsu, he’d forgotten about it. Brushed it off as a dream. He looks at Kaito, who’s scowling into his wallet. He looks back to the TV.

 _No harm in trying I guess_.

He reaches out an arm. The pads of his fingers press against the cool glass of the TV screen. Frowning, he pushes in a little more, not expecting anything.

The screen gives suddenly, the resistance disappearing, and his arm pushes into the screen just like before. Shuichi stares at the place his hand had been. There’s a pulsing white circle surrounding where his arm has entered the TV. _Entered the TV. It’s entered the TV._

“Bro, can you believe how expensive these things…” Kaito trails off. Shuichi jerks his eyes over to him. Kaito’s gaping, still in the middle of the motion of putting his wallet back in his pocket. “What…?”

“I don’t know!” squeaks Shuichi. _My arm is in the TV._ “I just touched it!”

“Dude, what the hell is your hand doing? Holy shit, what the hell is it doing?” Kaito’s voice has gone shrill and loud. Shuichi tries to pull his hand back, but something seems to be holding it tight. Kaito rushes over and grabs onto his upper arm, trying to yank it out with him. He stops when Shuichi lets out a yelp of pain. Kaito’s voice rises in volume as he buries his hands in his hair. “Is it stuck? It’s stuck? Should I try to- but what if we break the TV? Does this count as breaking the TV? Why’d you have to get stuck in an expensive model like this? Why didn’t you touch one of the cheaper ones?”

“I didn’t know!” Shuichi protests.

“Hey, degenerates!”

“Ch-chaba- h-hey, what’s up? Please do me a favor and don’t look over here right-”

“Why are you two idiots making so much noise when people are trying to shop?”

“Chabashira, don’t run, the floor’s wet!”

“Don’t patr-whoa! Ah! I’m sliding! I can’t stop! I didn’t think this happened in real-”

“Whoa, wait, don’t-”

A weight crashes on Shuichi’s back, and he loses his balance, head crashing through the TV and feet coming off the ground. He can’t tilt back the other way in time, not with the weight on his back still pushing him down, and instead he goes falling into the space within the screen. His stomach drops. The air leaves his lungs. His vision is warping around him, a blur of black and white trying to swallow him whole, and he can’t make his body move, there’s a loud whooshing noise in his ears that’s blocking out all rational thought and-

He hits hard. He cries out as his head smacks against the ground and something pointy jabs into his ribs. Blackness creeps in at the edges of his vision then fades out again. He hears Kaito groan from somewhere beside him.

The pointy pressure against Shuichi’s ribs backs off, and he hears Chabashira ask, “W-Where are we?”

 _Head hurts_ , Shuichi thinks. _I_ _probably have a concussion_.

Everything feels sluggish and awkward. Carefully, using both his hands, he pushes himself up, pausing every time his vision starts going black again. Feet that he recognizes as belonging to Kaito appear in front of him. He feels hands on his shoulders, helping him slowly make his way to his feet.

“Just take it easy, bro.”

“Did I kill him?!”

Shuichi winces at the volume.

“Sound _more_ excited about that, why don’t you?”

“I’m not excited about it! I don’t want to have killed him! I’m not that-”

“Hit…my head on the ground,” Shuichi says. Kaito starts moving his finger around in front of his face, and he follows it with his eyes. _Kind of. It’s kinda blurring. Feeling kinda nauseous. Bad sign._ “Not Chabashira’s…fault.”

“I think you’ve definitely got a concussion, bro. Okay. Come on, we’re gonna sit down again. Just sit down with me. Chabashira, can you give me a hand?”

“O-Okay.”

Hands grasping at his arms, Shuichi is slowly lowered to the ground again.

Kaito and Chabashira sit down next to him, looking pale. _Do I look that bad?_ He lifts his hands to his head, trying to check if he’s bleeding, but Kaito reaches out to stop him from prodding at the sore spot. “Hey man, how’d you do that? With your arm in the TV?”

“His arm was in the TV?”

“Yeah, he like, stuck his arm in, and there was this weird white spiral thing around it-”

“Are we in the TV?”

“Uh, I think we fell into it, yeah.”

“So it’s his fault we’re here!”

“Yeah! I mean, no! It’s no one’s fault. Unless you want to think it’s your fault, you’re the one who slipped and pushed us!”

“How was I supposed to know the floor was wet?”

“There was a sign! Whatever! Doesn’t matter- Shuichi, what happened? And, uh, where are we?”

“Um,” says Shuichi, trying to get his thoughts in order. He’s looking around at his surroundings. It’s vaguely yellow. Everything is. There’s a heavy mist in the air too, obscuring his vision. But he can make out cameras and lights in the sky. In fact, the whole thing looks like some sort of TV set-up. _Appropriate_. The cameras are pointing at them. It makes him uneasy. He can't tell if they're on or not. “Well, I got curious about the Midnight Channel, the night before Akamatsu disappeared. And- and I did see someone on the TV. A...girl. So, I reached out my hand...but it didn’t get stuck that time. I pulled it out fine.”

“You didn’t tell me about this,” says Kaito.

“I-I thought it was a dream, and then I was distracted…” he trails off. _What is that?_ He squints and tilts his neck- somebody pushes his head back straight again- and says, “Do you…see those figures…over there?”

They turn to look where Shuichi’s looking. Chabashira jumps to her feet and assumes a fighting stance, slightly in front of him. _Oh. That’s nice of her. Also nice to know that I’m not just hallucinating from the concussion._ Kaito joins her, blocking Shuichi’s view. He leans forward and tries to see through the space between their legs.

Finally, the figures come close enough that they’re visible through the fog and Shuichi finds himself looking at two children. Or, at least, he assumes that they’re children. They look younger than he is. One has a neutral expression and strange patterns across their face, skin, and clothes. _Actually those might not be clothes. He actually looks...kind of like he’s made of metal._ The other is grinning, wearing all white. It looks like a straightjacket, actually, except for the colorful buttons and the checkered scarf around his neck. They both size up Kaito and Chabashira then turn their gazes in sync to Shuichi. He blinks back at them. The child in white giggles all of a sudden, sending a shiver down Shuichi’s spine. But it’s the other one who speaks.

“Hello,” says the frowning child. “Are you injured?”

“Um. Why?” says Shuichi. “I mean. Yes. Um. I mean, who are you?”

“If you would allow me, I can assist you,” says the child. They put their hands on their hips, puffing out their chest proudly. The grin is fading from the other child’s face, shifting into something blank. It’s like they’ve swapped expressions. “I have healing capacities.”

“Healing capacities?” says Kaito, his tone incredulous. He waves his hands as if batting the words away. “No, wait, who are you? Where are we? What’s going on?”

“Honestly, that is what we would like to know,” starts the first child, their proud posture deflating. The child in white seems to see this as a cue to take over, striking a dramatic pose.

“Welcome! It is my solemn duty as the king of this world to regretfully inform you that you’re dead,” he says. He doesn’t sound solemn at all, let alone regretful. He strikes another pose, dodging out of the way of the other child’s hands trying to cover his mouth. “Yes, it’s true! I, Kokichi Oma, am the king who rules over this world! Now, I will weigh your souls against this robot- ow, Keebo!”

The other child- _a robot?-_ had given up on trying to cover their companion’s- _the king?-_ mouth and had instead jabbed him in the ribs.

“I apologize,” they say, bowing their head. “I don’t know where he learned to lie like that. I certainly didn’t teach him.”

“That’s because you’re boring!” says Oma, sulking, tears growing in his eyes. “I was just trying to have some fun! You never let me have any fun!”

Keebo makes a motion like he’s going to jab Oma in the ribs again, and the boy shrieks and dodges away.

“Anyway, we’d simply like you to leave swiftly, for your own safety,” says Keebo.

“For our own safety?” asks Chabashira suspiciously. “Is that a threat?

Oma, having gotten behind Keebo, suddenly jumps on their back. Keebo doesn’t even stumble, standing just as rigid straight as before. “Yes, it’s a threat! Keebo’s got attack functions that you won’t even believe. He can even turn into a car! He’s even got a rocket punch! He’s got-”

“I don’t possess any of those functions,” says Keebo, batting Oma’s hands away from his hair. “And I’m _not_ threatening you. But the fog is about to lift, so time is of the essence.”

“What happens when the fog lifts?” asks Kaito, and Keebo lets out a long sigh.

“We don’t have time for this,” they declare, shouldering through Kaito and Chabashira like they weigh nothing. Oma sticks out his tongue at Kaito as he passes, still clinging to Keebo's back. Keebo extends a hand towards Shuichi before the two can regain their balance. Both Chabashira and Kaito exclaim, but Keebo ignores them and instead calmly says, “ _Dia.”_

A green glow extends from their hand, wrapping around Shuichi’s head and then fading. The pain dissipates, mostly.

“Whoa,” says Shuichi, prodding at his head. It barely twinges.

Keebo kneels down in front of Shuichi as Oma finally hops off their back and turns his attention towards Kaito and Chabashira. They look back at him, Chabashira warily and Kaito with hostility. Keebo takes a cloth from the bag they carry around their waist and wipes something from Shuichi’s neck and cheek. Now that they’re closer, Shuichi can see that their eyes are glowing. There’s also a faint _whir_ , like machinery quietly working or the fan from a computer. _I guess he really is a robot, even if Oma isn’t the king._ Keebo retracts their hand, the cloth now slightly red. Shuichi must have actually been bleeding.

“There we go,” says Keebo, their tone satisfied. “Now, off you all go. You’re lucky you landed close enough to us that I could pinpoint your location. The others haven’t been so fortunate as of late.”

“The others?”

There’s a roar in the distance, and Keebo glances over their shoulder. Shuichi catches a flash of nerves race across Oma’s face before his expression transforms back into the mischievous smile. Keebo stands back up. “Time for you to go.”

“We don’t even know how we got in here,” Kaito points out. “How can we go back?”

Keebo extends their arm again, and a row of televisions suddenly appear. Shuichi turns to look at them, surprised, taking his attention off Keebo and Oma. There are suddenly hands under his armpits- _okay, yeah, he’s definitely made of metal_ \- lifting him like he weighs nothing, and he’s tossed without warning through the screen of the TV. He thinks he can hear childish laughter and a heavy sigh following him as he falls once more.

They all land in a heap on the floor of Junes.

They stay like that for a second, processing. Then-

“Chabashira, your elbow,” Shuichi grits out, because some things take priority.

“Momota needs to get off me first!”

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder! Ugh! I can’t stand being so close to boys! I need a shower!”

“Chabashira, your elbow-!”

“Get off, get off, get off!”

Kaito tries to say something, but it’s cut off as he begins to cough harshly

“Uh.”

All three of them look up to find Amami peering down the aisle at them. His expression seems torn between amusement, concern, and confusion.

Shuichi feels himself flush in embarrassment instinctively. If Chabashira and Kaito hadn’t still been holding him down, he might have jumped right back in the TV. _Wait. The TV. How long has he been there?_ He pales just as quickly as it occurs to him that Amami could have seen everything. His eye twitching and voice higher than normal, Shuichi asks, “H-how long have you been here?”

“I just got here?” Amami answers, the edge of a laugh in his voice. He glances between the three of them, hand over his mouth now as if he’s trying to hide his twitching corner of his mouth. It’s not working. “Did you slip on the floor?”

“I-It was just an unfortunate accident,” Shuichi hedges. Kaito has finally managed to get the leverage to pull himself up to his feet, but he’s immediately bending back over to cough. Shuichi looks up at him, worried. “Kaito?”

“Just got the wind knocked out of me,” Kaito manages. He takes a deep breath and holds it, still coughing quietly in his throat.

Chabashira’s elbow finally removes itself from his ribs and Shuichi scrambles up, straightening the collar of his uniform. He looks up and meets Amami’s gaze.

Completely meets his gaze.

Amami’s eyes widen a little, hand still covering his mouth. Shuichi can’t totally read his expression, but there’s more pressing concerns now.

_Where’s my hat?_

Frantically, tearing his eyes away from Amami’s, he scans the ground, letting out a soft exclamation of relief when he spots it just next to the TV. He hurriedly rushes towards it, cramming it on his head. The world closes in comfortably again.

“I just wanted to come see if you’d found a TV you liked yet, Momota.”

Kaito laughs, but it comes out too harshly. He sounds like he’s choking. When he speaks, his voice is tight and constrained. “I’ve had enough TV for today. Maybe I’ll come back for one.”

“Is it the price? We do have some cheaper display models…”

“No, really. It’s fine. Just gotta...think it over a little more. Sorry, I know I said I’d be your first customer.”

“Now or in a week, you’ll still be the first customer. Think it over as much as you need,” Amami lowers his hand. Shuichi glances up from beneath the shield of his hat, but Amami’s not looking at him anymore. His mouth has settled back into its normal slight smile. He steps back from the aisle, offering them a wave. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at the information desk.”

As soon as he’s gone, Chabashira lets out a frustrated groan and Kaito takes a deep breath in his nose and then out his mouth. Shuichi rubs his forehead. His head wound might be gone, but there’s a different and more familiar kind of headache coming back to him now.

_I don’t think he saw us fall out of the TV. Unless he’s just hiding it- I don’t know why he wouldn’t go ahead and freak out if he saw us tumble out of the screen though. I would. He was mostly just amused. I guess we were just a weird sight. That’s a little embarrassing._

Kaito and Chabashira are whispering to each other now. Shuichi tries to tune them out.

_What was up with that world though? It looked like a TV set. Maybe it does have something to do with that Midnight Channel. They were worried about the fog...lifting? Now that I think about it, it’s supposed to be foggy this evening._

“Shuichi,” says Kaito in a loud whisper. He still doesn’t sound great, although the coughs aren’t coming anymore. Shuichi lifts his head, his thoughts interrupted. “Shouldn’t we talk about…”

“Meet tomorrow,” Shuichi says hastily, holding on to his scattering train of thought. “We’ll talk after school. I don’t...I think I need some time to process that.”

“I don’t want to spend my afternoon-!” Chabashira starts, but she breaks herself off. Some of her hair has come out of her ponytail, and she blows it out of her face frustrated. “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”

They part ways. The sun is starting to set. Kaito doesn’t walk Shuichi home this time. The coughs are back. Shuichi can hear them even though Kaito is trying to muffle them behind his hand. He’s grateful for the alone time as it gives him a chance to think, but he’s worried too. _I hope he’s not getting sick._ _Maybe it's some sort of effect from the TV world? But I'm not feeling any effects. The yellow mist was somewhat suspicious, though, and the robot did heal me. I might check in with Chabashira tomorrow in order to monitor....._

He thinks all the way home, losing himself in it. He forgets about everything else.

-

The door’s unlocked when Shuichi gets there, and he has a brief moment of panic as he throws it open until he sees that Komaeda and Detective Hinata are both in the living room. He’s gotten so accustomed to only finding Chiaki at home. Both of them look worse for wear with messy hair and rumpled shirts. The bags under Komaeda’s eyes are so deep and purple that it looks like he’s been socked in the face. Twice, once for each blooming black eye.  _He hadn’t looked nearly this bad the last time he visited. What was that, three days ago?_

Detective Hinata, arms crossed, stands over where he’s lying on the couch. Chiaki’s doing homework on the living room table. _She must have gotten her fill of games during club. If that’s possible._ Shuichi steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Nobody’s looked up, Chiaki seemingly very focused and Detective Hinata and Komaeda busy with an argument.

“...day off tomorrow, Komaeda,” Detective Hinata is saying sternly. “It’s just a waiting game now anyway, you can go to a doctor’s appointment. It’d be a much bigger hassle if you collapse again.”

“I’m fine,” Komaeda says, trying to sit up. Detective Hinata throws a washcloth over his face to stop him. “Ow.”

“You’ve got a temperature,” says Detective Hinata. Shuichi slips off his shoes, padding into the kitchen. He’s starving. _I'm not usually this hungry. Perhaps that could be another effect of the TV? Or just a stress reaction, I suppose. I wonder if Oma needs to eat? Unlike Keebo, he appears to be...organic. Although he lives in a TV, so...._ “Tsumiki said she thinks you’ve lost more weight and that you’re looking paler than normal.”

“She did?” Komaedas asks, voice muffled under the washcloth.

“Actually, she told me that she screamed when you snuck up behind her, because she thought one of the corpses had come back to life,” Detective Hinata pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just go to the doctor.”

“I’m fine,” Komaeda repeats, a petulant tone in his voice that Shuichi hasn’t heard from him before. He manages to push himself up all the way, dragging the washcloth off his face. It slips from his fingers and lands on the floor. Detective Hinata mutters to himself as he leans over to grab it. Looking straight, Komaeda finally spots Shuichi. He smiles, and it’s probably not as reassuring as he intended. “Oh, welcome back! I’m sorry, it was rude of me not to notice when you came in.”

“Oh. No, I was quiet, it’s fine,” Shuichi says. He wonders if he’s allowed to look in the fridge for a snack. He’s taken whatever he wants from the fridge before, but Detective Hinata’s watching him this time. He’s so hungry. _Too much to be a stress reaction, I think. Maybe the TV world takes more energy than our...normal space? Is it a different dimension or something? I can't believe I'm contemplating this._  “Did you finally get a break?”

There’s a pause. Shuichi glances between the two of them. Detective Hinata averts his eyes out the window while Komaeda looks at his hands. _What?_ Detective Hinata presses his lips together. It’s Komaeda who speaks, pressing the tips of his fingers together carefully. “We’ve exhausted all avenues for investigating Akamatsu’s case.”

“Komaeda!” Detective Hinata hisses.

Shuichi scratches his nails against the countertop. “Oh.”

“Komaeda, can you not talk to civilians about ongoing investigations?”

“Ah. Sorry. I’m really sorry, Detective Hinata,” Shuichi hears Komaeda say. “And I didn’t mean to upset you, Shuichi. I thought, well. You said before that you liked to have the facts.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says. Somehow, in the confusion about the TV and his subsequent thoughts, he’d managed to forget about Akamatsu. He doesn’t know how that happened. The guilt inside his gut boils up as he thinks about her again. How could he have forgotten, even for a second?

“It’s not like we’ve given up,” Detective Hinata assures him, his voice reluctant. “It’s just a waiting game now. Either she ran away, in which case she’ll have to use a credit card and leave some kind of trace eventually or-”

He cuts himself off. _Scritch scratch scritch_ goes Shuichi’s nails on the counter.

Chiaki’s stopped doing her homework, glancing between all of them with a worried expression. Shuichi’s stomach growls loudly and breaks the silence. He stares down at it, confused. He doesn’t feel the hunger anymore.

Komaeda tries to push himself off the couch. “Ah, I should get started on dinner.”

Detective Hinata spreads his arms and crowds close to the couch, giving Komaeda no room to stand up. “You’re not going to get started on anything but relaxing. I’ll make dinner.”

“I’ll make dinner,” Chiaki corrects, setting down her pencil and heading towards Shuichi in the kitchen. Detective Hinata makes a noise of affront, distracted enough that he barely manages to block Komaeda’s lunge off the couch with a foot to his partner’s face. Komaeda makes a pained sound and falls back on the cushions.

“I can cook!” Komaeda protests.

“You can rest,” Detective Hinata insists. “But, Chiaki, keep doing your homework. I can cook.”

“You can use the microwave,” Chiaki corrects again. She opens one of the cabinets beneath the sink and pulls out a small step stool. She pauses before she sets it down, head tilted in thought. “I think you can use the microwave.”

“I can! That’s cooking!”

“I think your cooking is very earnest, Detective Hinata.”

“That’s one of your worst attempts at a compliment and that's saying something. And you can’t use flattery to get out of resting, Komaeda!”

They’re all suddenly so animated and loud, like they’re trying to distract Shuichi from his thoughts. It makes something clench in his chest, and he takes a deep, quiet breath through his nose before trying to put on a chipper face for Chiaki.

“What are we making?” Shuichi asks. He rolls up his sleeves.

“Stir fry! I think. And some plain rice and veggies for Uncle Nagi.”

“You think?” asks Detective Hinata, a note of amusement clear in his voice. “You know, Chiaki, it always turns out good, but you could stand to follow a recipe every once in awhile.”

“Everything Chi-chan makes is good. But, if I could just get up to help-” Komaeda is cut off when Detective Hinata, without even looking, throws the washcloth over his face again. “Ow.”

The fog rolls in.

-

Shuichi isn’t expecting the assembly the next day. But, somehow, he’s not surprised either. When the intercom comes on in the afternoon, just before the end of the day, asking that everyone please head to the auditorium, everything inside him turns to ice. He knows what it’s about. It can’t be about anything else. The police have learned from their mistake, deciding not to let the students go home early. They're making the announcement sooner, want to get it out faster, perhaps, because it couldn’t just be a crazy fan anymore. Because it's personal and local now. Because there’s real danger now. Any host of reasons. Shuichi looks at Kaito. His face is white. He does not look back at Shuichi.

Whispers surround them as they get in line. Ishimaru-sensei, his face grim, makes them go in alphabetical order by family name, so Shuichi can only stare at Kaito’s ramrod straight spine, unable to reach out and grab his shoulder or- or something. _Anything_ . _I can’t do anything._ Kaito’s fists clench, and Shuichi’s do too.

They reach the gym. He sees Chabashira, who keeps glancing over her shoulder at Yumeno way in the back. Her eyes are shining, like she might be on the verge of tears. Yumeno, for her part, appears to be dozing off against the back of the white-haired, dark-skinned girl in front of her. He sees Amami too, all the way in the front, wearing his uniform wrong. Shuichi can’t tell what he’s feeling from the back of his head. He’s very still, eyes front. Shuichi tries to do the same.

The principal stands at the podium. The teachers sit in rows on the stage behind him. Fujisaki-sensei is sobbing silently, Mondo-sensei’s hand on their back. They all must have already been told. The whispers hush violently fast as the principal clears his throat. Everybody already knows what the principal is going to say. Shuichi had already known from the start.

“We have been informed by the police that the body of a second year student has been found dead this morning-”

There’s a burst of motion as Kaito takes off running out of the gym, his hand clasped over his mouth. His shoulder smacks violently into Shuichi’s on his way out, almost sending him to the ground. Shuichi hardly notices. Ishimaru-sensei rises from the stage, walking quickly out the door where Kaito had disappeared. Shuichi feels like he should be going after him too, but he can’t get his body to move. There’s a hollowness emptying him out. It’s familiar. He feels pinned. He knows there’s no reason anyone would be looking at him right now, but he still feels them. _The eyes_.

“-Um. Ahem. Well. We’ve been assured that there’s no evidence of bullying being an issue-”

_The bathroom._

“-be careful what you say to anyone-”

_The rope tied to the ceiling, swaying gently._

"-cooperate with the police-"

 _The dead eyes of a boy_.

"-brought to justice-"

_He'd yelled. He'd yelled and screamed. At the moment and afterwards._

"-the good name of this school and of Inaba itself-"

_The police led them away. he got them in trouble. He watched them go. They watched him watch them, eyes burning. Like he was the devil._

"-counseling-"

_Eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes-_

He pinches the skin of his arm until it threatens to bleed.  _It's not the same. Snap out of it, Saihara. It's not the same_.

The thought is not as comforting as it should be.

_I didn’t even try this time. I didn’t try._

He realizes that everyone is filing out. The final bell of the day has rung while they’ve been listening. He wonders if he should look for Kaito. He leaves instead.

_What should I have done?_

He walks home alone, his hat pulled as far down as it can go. The afternoon with Chiaki is quiet as she watches him with concern. Detective Hinata and Komaeda do not appear.

_Why didn’t I try?_

He wonders if Komaeda got to go to the doctor. He goes to bed early.

_I should have done something._

Somehow, sleep comes easy.

-

He’s awoken in the middle of the night by a knocking on his window.

He gets up slowly despite the insistence of the sound. He feels like he’s moving through heavy fog, even though it rolled out this morning as suddenly as it had descended. He figures it’s just a branch from the tree outside hitting the glass in the wind. He opens the curtain.

Kaito’s there.

Immediately, the fog lifts. Shuichi’s hands go up to where his hat is decidedly not on his head. “K-Kaito?!”

Kaito puts a finger to his lips, then gestures for him to open up the window. Shuichi does so automatically, startling when Kaito reaches out to pull at his hair. “Bro, you’ve really got a bedhead.”

Shuichi bats his arm away defensively, retreating back into the room to retrieve his hat and jam it on his head. When he turns back around, Kaito has hauled himself through the window to sit on the sill. He’s got a bag slung over his shoulder with a golf club sticking out of it. Shuichi raises his eyebrows. “Why are you here? We’re not supposed to be out at night anymore since-.”

“I was thinking today,” says Kaito. His expression is hard and focused. It keeps Shuichi from slipping again.

“Kaito...I’m really sorry that-” Shuichi starts, but Kaito shakes his head before he can say anything more. Shuichi’s not sure what he’d been about to apologize for anyway, so he swallows back the rest of his words.

“I think the TV world has something to do with Kaede.”

Shuichi goes to speak again but pauses. He gathers his own thoughts, as much as he can. “What makes you think that?”

“My gut.”

Shuichi’s not too impressed with that, but the more he turns it over in his head, the more in starts to make sense.

_“We’ve exhausted all avenues for investigating Akamatsu’s case.”_

_The wavering shape of a girl appears on the screen._

_“The others haven’t been so fortunate as of late.”_

“Okay. That’s...that’s something,” Shuichi says slowly, gears still turning. “But why did you come over? You could have just called to talk about it. And what's with the golf club?”

Kaito’s expression hardens even further. “We’re going back in.”

Shuichi blinks. "We can't go back in. N-not right now, at least. They said it was dangerous, and there's no guarantee we'd be able to find Keebo and Oma again, which means we might not be able to get out. Unless we entered through the same TV. B-but, it's the middle of the night, we can't get into Junes now."

"Don't worry about that last part," says Kaito, hand waving it away. Shuichi does not think that's something that should be hand waved away. "And the dangerous part is why I brought the golf club. The golf club and other things."

"W-we can go in the morning, Kaito," Shuichi hisses. His hands are shaking. His stomach is bubbling. "You...we need to-"

"Shuichi," says Kaito. He doesn't continue. He just looks at Shuichi steadily, and Shuichi can read what that look is saying. That look is saying:  _I'm going with or without you, right now._ Shuichi gulps. Something hot and painful is pulsing in his chest. It might be his heart. He shuts his eyes, clutching at his hat. All he can see against his eyelids is the dead eyes of a boy, only now they belong to Akamatsu. She sways on the rope, her spirit gone, everything about her that made her smart and kind and bright. 

He's afraid. He's so afraid of everything turning out like last time.

He gulps again. He opens his eyes. 

"Okay. Okay. Let's go."

-

Kaito waits for him to get dressed, then he helps Shuichi scale his way out the window and down the tree. Shuichi hops on to the handlebars of Kaito's bike, and they start down the road to Junes. They don't speak on the way there. Shuichi holds on so tightly that he can feel his knuckles turning white. 

The last thing he expects to see as they roll into Junes' parking lot is Chabashira tapping her foot.

“This is a stupid idea,” she says as they approach. “For the record.”

“Thanks for helping, Chabashira,” Kaito says earnestly. Chabashira looks at him for a second, unable to hide the softening of her expression into something resembling worry, before she sharply turns her head away.

“I’m not doing this for your sake,” she says, her voice wavering. “I want to know what happened to Kaede too.”

“Um,” Shuichi speaks up. They both look at him. “So. Junes is closed.”

In the dark, the cheery font and bunny rabbit mascot are suddenly much more ominous. It’s almost as if it’s staring into Shuichi’s soul.

“That’s why I’m here,” says Chabashira. They follow her as she begins to move towards the building, heading for the staff entrance on the side. “Junes has terrible security. They probably just don’t want to bother since it’s a small town, although I don’t know how much longer they’ll be able to keep that up, considering...well, considering. Most of the security cameras in there are fake. We're actually lucky that the TV we fell in was in a dark area.”

Shuichi's heart skips a beat at the thought. He hadn't even considered security cameras.

“And, uh, how do you know this?” asks Shuichi, watching with concern as Chabashira kneels down to begin fiddling with the door lock.

“My dad taught me.”

“Ah.” He’s not sure whether she’s referring to the security cameras, the lockpicking, or both.

“What’s that ‘ah’ supposed to mean?”

“Uh, that is, nothing! N-nothing at all.”

The door opens with a soft click, and Shuichi follows Kaito inside. It’s pitch black, so he reaches forward and grabs the back of Kaito’s jacket. He’s not expecting Kaito to jump out of his skin and shriek with terror. “S-something touched me!”

“That was me!” Shuichi shrieks back, almost as startled by Kaito’s reaction as Kaito had been by Shuichi’s hand on his jacket. “Sorry!”

“You’re such wimps,” says Chabashira from somewhere in the darkness. She flips on a flashlight, holding it under her chin and making a face.

“I-I-I wasn’t scared!”

Now that there’s light, Shuichi doesn’t reach for Kaito’s jacket again. Once Chabashira leads them out of the staff area into the main store, the emergency lights illuminate everything to an almost comfortable degree. They follow Chabashira as she takes them on a precise path to the TV section- _probably avoiding the real security cameras. Even looking at the ones I can see, I can’t tell the difference to be honest._ It takes almost twice as long to get to the TV section. They stop in front of the same unit they’d fallen in last time, and Kaito kneels to swing his bag off his back. He hands Shuichi two pairs of scissors- he takes them, dubiously- sets the golf club down next to him, then hands Chabashira one end of a length of rope.

“What is this for?” she asks.

“I’m going to tie it around my middle,” Kaito answers, and he proceeds to do so. “So you can yank us out if anything gets dangerous.”

“Am I supposed to use these as weapons?” Shuichi asks, looking at the scissors he’s holding.

“Last time we were in there, they said we had to leave ‘for our own safety,’ right?” Kaito crosses his arms, nodding to himself. “Like you said, Shuichi, that must mean that there’s something dangerous in there. We need to be able to defend ourselves, just in case.”

_But why do I have to use scissors?_

“Wait, you want me to stay out here?” Chabashira asks, dropping the rope and setting her hands on her hips. “No way! I want to go in and see what happened too! Besides, how am I supposed to yank you out? I’m strong but I’m not some muscle maniac.”

Kaito pauses, thinking about it. Finally, he grimaces. “But I already tied the rope around me.”

Chabashira reaches into the pocket of her sweatpants, pulling out what looks like brass knuckles. Kaito looks at them, then he sighs in defeat and reaches for one of Shuichi’s pairs of scissors to start cutting himself free from the rope he’d just tied. “Just saying, Chabashira, if we get stuck in there, it’s your fault.”

“The robot let us out last time, it’ll be fine.”

Kaito finishes cutting the rope off, stuffing it back in his bag and picking up the golf club. “Everybody ready?”

Shuichi takes his second pair of scissors back. “I guess so.”

“Let’s try not to land on top of each other this time,” says Chabashira. "Especially with those scissors."

"I-I'll be careful."

“Okay! Let’s go!”

Taking a deep breath, Kaito and Chabashira grabbing his shoulders on either side, Shuichi pushes his way into the TV. The world spins about in an endless sea of white and black again, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel his stomach drop. When the spirals fade, he finds himself standing upright, Kaito and Chabashira still on either side, firmly on solid ground. He glances backwards, surprised to find the row of TVs they’d been shoved through yesterday still there.

“Oh,” says Chabashira, following his gaze. “Well, that’s nice.”

Kaito cups his hands to his mouth and takes a deep breath in before shouting “KEEEEEBOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“Hey, Momota, cut it out!” Chabashira snaps. Kaito doubles over, huffing in and out, as if the singular yell had totally exhausted him. She rolls her eyes, slapping him none too gently on the back. She cups her other hand to her mouth and shouts, “KEEEEEEBOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

_So much for cutting it out._

“What are you three doing back here?”

They all yelp and spin around. Keebo walks their way around the TVs, having come up behind the three of them. They’re carrying a sleeping Oma on their back like he weighs nothing. Shuichi blinks at the softly snoring boy. _Well, he needs to sleep at least. Or, at least, he's able to. That points to him being a human of some sort. But where do they get food in here? Or does he not need it?_  Oma shifts, hiding his face in Keebo’s neck. They glance at him nervously, hiking him up a little more on their back. When they speak, their voice is lowered. “I thought we told you that it wasn’t safe here.”

“Keebo,” Shuichi starts, because Kaito still appears to be getting his breath back. Chabashira is just resting her hand on his back now, uncharacteristically, her eyebrows furrowed. “You mentioned when we came in last time that there had been others in here recently?”

Keebo nods. “That’s correct. This space is vast, and my senses only go so far. I wasn’t able to locate them.”

“What...happens when you aren’t able to locate them?” Kaito manages, standing up straight.

Keebo averts their eyes further.

“Hey!” snaps Chabashira loudly. She assumes an aggressive posture, ready to strike. “Tell us!”

“Whas’ goin’ on?” mumbles Oma, apparently awakened by Chabashira’s shout. “Keebo? We fightin’ ‘gain?”

“No, no fighting, go back to sleep,” says Keebo. They shoot Chabashira a look, which she returns evenly. “I don’t really know what happens. But anyone who’s here when the fog lifts disappears afterwards. The Shadows get restless and rather violent then. We were busy all day defending ourselves. Hence,” they pause and gesture at the dozing Oma with a jerk of their chin, “why Kokichi’s tired.”

“Shadows?” asks Shuichi. “What are those?”

Keebo makes a face- _His face is expressive for being made of metal_ \- and shrugs with the shoulder that Oma isn’t sleeping on. “They’ve always been here.”

“How long is always?” Shuichi prods.

“Always is _always_. I don’t know. For as long as I’ve been here.”

“How long is-”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Kaito, brushing off Shuichi’s continued curiosity.  “Listen, is there any way you could bring us to where the last person used to be? We want to look around.”

“If I had been able to pinpoint the location at all, I would have been able to go and find them before the fog lifted,” Keebo says, their eyes shuttering. “If I can't find them when they're here, I could certainly not find the last remnants of them after they’re gone.”

“Don’t you have, like, any ideas?” asks Chabashira impatiently.

Keebo hums. They sound like Shuichi’s computer when it’s working hard. “You know, now that I think about it, I’ve always been able to find Kokichi. He's gone outside the bounds of my general senses before, but I could track him no matter how far he wandered.”

“It makes hide ‘n seek abs’lutely no fun,” Oma mumbles, apparently somewhat tuned into the conversation.

“Perhaps if I knew more about who or what I was looking for, I’d be able to lead us there,” Keebo says. Their eyes reopen, lit up with green light. “I had never really thought about that before, to be honest!”

“So, if we tell you more about...Akamatsu,” says Shuichi, almost stumbling over the name, “then you might be able to take us to where she was?”

“No promises,” says Keebo. “But maybe.”

Shuichi glances at his companions, but both of them are looking towards the ground, sadness etched into the lines of their faces. The guilt in his stomach boils. He straightens his shoulders, looking back at Keebo. _Might as well get this started. That's something I can do._ “Her name was Kaede Akamatsu.”

“So they do die when it happens,” Keebo whispers, apparently noticing the past tense. They bow their head.

“Yes, she was found dead this morning,” Shuichi confirms. _Don’t think about it_. “She had blonde hair, and she liked the color pink. She liked music. Uh. She worked part-time at Junes, which is where we came in from. She was really nice to everyone.”

“She never talked much about herself,” Chabashira jumps in. Shuichi takes in a deep gulp of air, thankful for being relinquished from his task. “She always wanted to know how everybody else was doing. She always saw the best in things too. Whenever I was having a problem, I knew I could always take it to her, and she’d make me feel better.”

“She…” says Kaito, then he stops. He’s turned away, so Shuichi can’t see his face. “She played the piano really well. She started giving me lessons when we were both ten. She liked making people happy with her performances. I could call her whenever, at whatever time, and we’d go stargazing together and look for aliens. And she...she was always mothering me, which was annoying sometimes. But she could be mean, too, but in a nice way. She made fun of me a lot. She needed to take breaks sometimes though, when she was around people too long. She got headaches. But she'd let me sit with her still.”

As Kaito speaks, Shuichi notices that the stray strand of hair on Keebo’s head has gone stock straight like an antenna and that his eyes have gone a full glowing green. Any lingering doubts about Keebo’s robotic nature were gone.  _Not that I had many left anyway._

“I may have found something,” they say, once Kaito stops speaking. “Enough for me to start leading you in the right direction.”

“Well then, let’s go!” demands Chabashira. She rocks back and forth on her feet.

Keebo hesitates. “We won’t be able to protect you. Kokichi is already exhausted, and I can only perform support abilities. Likely, Shadows will still be crawling about all over. It may be best for you to come back-”

“If we leave it, we may miss the chance to find some evidence,” Shuichi states. “It’s best to examine the crime scene as soon as you can.”

“Besides, we’re hardly defenseless,” boasts Chabashira, flashing her brass knuckles. Kaito also stands straighter, golf club perched on his shoulder. Shuichi looks down at his scissors.  _Honestly, I'm not very confident about these._ Keebo also doesn’t seem convinced, but they still sigh and step forward.

“Simply run if you feel you are in danger, I suppose,” they say. “That is what I will be doing. I don’t mean to cause offense, but Kokichi takes priority over all of you.”

Shuichi watches as Keebo hikes the boy up a little further on their back and walks past them. Oma's face is hidden entirely in Keebo's neck now. Apparently he's gone entirely back to sleep.  _It must be nice, to have someone to care about so much. Nice, and maybe a little scary._

The world inside the TV remains entirely featureless, even as they continue to walk, following Keebo deeper into the fog. There are still cameras, ones that seem to be always pointed at them, like they’re following the group’s movement through the world. Stage lights are also strung up, although they are turned off. _If we had tried to look for anything on our own, we would have gotten entirely lost_ , Shuichi thinks to himself, suppressing a shiver. _How long did Akamatsu spend wandering, trying to find any landmark or anything that might lead her home? We were lucky to land so close to Keebo. If we hadn’t…_

The image of Junko Enoshima’s corpse flashes in his mind, and he swallows. The image of Akamatsu hanging threatens to overtake him again. He pinches himself, steadying himself in the moment.

“We’re getting closer,” says Keebo. Shuichi looks up and squints. Sure enough, there’s a shape through the fog. It becomes clearer as they come closer. It looks a bit like-

“A concert hall?” he asks.

“That’s what it looks like,” Keebo answers. “Although I have never seen one in person.”

The yellow tint of the world is beginning to darken into orange, and then it quickly descends into red as they approach the entrance. The door itself is a mess of red and black swirls. Shuichi can’t see into it at all.

“I don’t understand,” says Chabashira. “Why’s there a concert hall all of a sudden? There was nothing else anywhere in this world at all!”

Before Keebo can answer, they are interrupted by a strange mechanical laughter. Keebo’s eyes flash red with warning, their antenna sticking straight up in the air again. They hold tighter to Oma, backing up hastily, away from the door. “Shadows. They’re here.”

Kaito steps forward, brandishing his golf club. They all stare at the doorway in silence.

And then-

Suddenly-

A monster tumbles out.

It’s like a spider. Except it’s also some kind of bear. Except it's also a machine. Its wirings are all sticking out, but it also seems to be bleeding like a real animal. It has one big blue eye, protruding and spinning around, unable to settle on anything. But the other one is small, red, and glowing, and it focuses on them with murderous intent. It scuttles forward on legs that are far too small and spindly for the creaking weight of its body. Kaito stumbles back as it approaches. His foot catches on his ankle and he falls.

_No._

The world moves in slow motion. The Shadows is charging towards where Kaito has hit the ground. Its mouth opens to show horrifying teeth. Everything rushes through Shuichi's head in an endless wave.

_No._

_I don’t want to see those eyes again._

_I don't want to wait until after the fact._

_I want to be able to save someone._

_I want to make it in time._

_I know I’m selfish._

_I’m so selfish._

_I’m so self-centered._

_I never think of anything but myself._

_Disgusting._

_Disgusting._

_I want to change._

_But that weakness is a part of me._

_I know it is._  

_But I have to do something._

_I'm going to do something this time!_

He hears himself scream as he launches himself forward, throwing himself on Kaito, wrapping his arms around Kaito’s shoulders and bracing himself for the impact of tearing claws sure to be bearing down on his back at any moment.

They don’t come.

He hears his heartbeat in his ears, way too loud. His stomach drops. The hair on the back of his neck prickles. All of a sudden, Kaito disappears and Shuichi falls forward, his hands hitting the ground. There's a bright flash of light. Everything disappears into a sea of blue.

Shuichi blinks.

A man with spiky brown hair and a sheepish expression blinks back.

“Well. It seems it’s finally time for us to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody commented "I'm worried Kaede is going to be like Saki" on the last chapter and I want to personally say to that person that I'm sorry. I love Kaede. I really do. We're not going to forget about her. 
> 
> By the way, I know I haven't replied to comments, but I really really appreciate them. Thanks to everyone who's reading :)
> 
> A temporary update to the schedule: Chapter 4 will be out June 21, then Chapter 5 will be out August 2 and we’ll be back to the first Fridays of each month. I’m doing a lot of traveling in May and June, so I’m thinking I’m going to get behind as far as writing ahead goes. Changing the schedule gives me a bit of a buffer. Sorry to make you wait so long, but hopefully it’ll be worth it. A LOT goes down in Chapter 4. We’re finally getting to the meat of the story...30,000 words in.
> 
> Well, it is inspired by a Persona game.


	4. A Song to Say Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write the fight scene or did I fight the fight scene?
> 
> Either way, I lost.
> 
> ...
> 
> Wow, this chapter was a lot harder than I expected. Still not toootally happy with it, but what can you do. ANYWAY let’s get in to it.

“Where am I?” Shuichi asks. He looks around frantically. His nails scrabble through the carpet as he clutches for shoulders that have disappeared. “Kaito? Chabashira? Where are they?” he rounds on the man in front of him. “What did you do with them?”

“Don’t worry, your friends are fine! Everything’s fine!” the man says hurriedly. “While you’re here, no time is passing in the real world.”

“Here?” asks Shuichi. “Where’s ‘here?’”

“That’s technically not quite true,” says another voice, feminine this time. Shuichi swings his head to the left, spotting her seated on one of the blue couches that surround the room. He could have sworn there was no one there before. She wears a black suit in the same style as the man, but her hair is long and lilac. Her eyes are purple too, but a darker shade. They are hard to read. She surveys Shuichi unblinkingly as she continues. “I believe that every hour in here is about a thousandth of a second in the real world.”

“Ah, really?” says the man, eyes wide.

“Yes.”

“Well, you would know, Kyoko,” the man turns back to Shuichi, still smiling reassuringly. “But, still, no need to worry! We’re not going to keep you. You’ll be back before anybody knows it!”

“This is already taking too long,” says another voice, thin. Shuichi swings his head to the right to find another man in a black suit. There was certainly no one there before. He's sure. The man’s hair is blond and styled, his long legs crossed over each other, and his arms folded loosely. There might as well be a solid wall between him and the rest of the room. He’s inspecting Shuichi from over his glasses with disdain. It’s a familiar look, one that makes Shuichi want to shrivel up inside. He looks away. “Hurry up, would you, Makoto?”

“S-sorry, Byakuya,” says the man named Makoto. He smiles at Shuichi, embarrassed but friendly. “Welcome to the Trial Grounds, Shuichi Saihara. Please, make yourself at home.”

Shuichi stands slowly, for lack of anything else to do. He discovers quickly that his legs don’t really want to hold him, so he falls back again, this time on one of the couches behind him. _Were those there before?_ All three of them watch him, one warm, one cold, one emotionless.  _ Did I die? Is this what the afterlife is?  _  His eyes dart around, waiting for someone to say something.  _ He _sai_ d this was the Trial Grounds...perhaps this is where my soul goes to be judged? This isn’t quite what I expected. _

“You’re not dead,” says the woman named Kyoko. Shuichi jumps.  _ Can she read my mind _ ? Her lips quirk up for a split second before her neutral expression settles once more. “I can’t read your mind. Your expression just gives away so much. Don’t feel embarrassed. All humans are like that.”

_ Humans? Are they not... _

“If I’m not dead then...what am I being judged on?” Shuichi asks. 

Makoto opens his mouth, but he’s cut off by Byakuya. “I’ll answer the question. You always try to give too many hints, Makoto.”

Makoto promptly closes his mouth again, fiddling with the point in his hair. 

“I’m sure it’s become clear to you that something odd is happening in Inaba. Unless you’re an utter idiot, which is more likely than not.” Byakuya pulls a nail file out of the inner pocket of his suit and begins to use it on his already-rounded and smooth fingernails. It’s honestly a relief to not be looked at anymore, even if Shuichi has a feeling that it’s because Byakuya thinks he’s not worth looking at. “You’re here because you’ve already proven yourself worthy of being the one to reveal the truth. We’re here to assist you along that path.”

“I-I’m worthy?” asks Shuichi, confused. “But I-”

“-am weak?” finishes Kyoko.

“That’s rather the point,” continues Byakuya.

“You two are way too harsh!” bursts out Makoto, sending them both a glare. It’s too childish of an expression to be intimidating. Somehow it’s still effective, as they both stay silent. Byakuya focuses harder on his nails and Kyoko inclines her head, eyes slipping closed. Makoto smiles kindly. He leans forward and folds his hands in his lap. “You have many potentials, Shuichi. The Trial Grounds recognizes those potentials. You have so many doubts and fears about yourself, but the wonderful thing is that all of those can become strengths! And that’s why you’ll be the one who can reveal the truth.”

“What truth?” Shuichi asks. He folds his trembling hands together. “What are you talking about?”

Makoto opens his mouth again, but Byakuya interrupts once more. “No hints!”

“I’m afraid we cannot tell you that,” says Kyoko. “We can help you with many things, but not that.”

“So there are rules to this,” Shuichi surmises. Kyoko’s lips press into a thin line. “What, it’s a...a game then?”

Byakuya tucks away his nail file, glaring at Kyoko this time. “Honestly, you’re almost as bad as Makoto sometimes. Although,” and he looks back at Shuichi, his eyes more considering than unfriendly for the first time, “I suppose he does show a little promise.”

“If you know there’s a truth to reveal, why don’t you just do it?” asks Shuichi. “Is that part of the game rules?”

“For now, at least, that’s none of your concern,” says Kyoko. “We can’t. You can. That’s all you need to know. ”

“You want me to solve the murders for you?” 

“It’s far beyond that,” scoffs Byakuya. “But I suppose the murders are as good a place as any to start.”

Shuichi wants to scream. “Can...can you just be a little bit more specific?”

Kyoko and Byakuya both open their mouths, but Makoto manages to beat them this time. He locks his eyes firmly with Shuichi’s. Shuichi is unable to look away. For all Makoto’s unassuming normalcy, there’s something arresting about his gaze. “There’s a great turning point coming up, Shuichi. The things happening in Inaba pose a considerable threat to the direction we want the future to take. But we can’t interfere. We’re just observers.”

“Careful, Makoto,” warns Kyoko. The man makes a face.

“Anyway, that’s why we need you, Shuichi. You’re brimming with potential. You’re our hope for the future.”

The silence stretches. Shuichi looks down at his lap. He still doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t think he’ll get a clearer answer. “But I...I can’t do anything.”

“Maybe not right now,” says Makoto gently. “But that’s why it’s called  _ potential _ .”

“Your fear of being unable to save someone, of reaching out and still coming up short, of doing something and making it worse... it stalled you into inaction,” says Byakuya. "Pathetic, really."

“You acknowledged that. You accepted it. You dove in front of your friend anyway. You resolved to change the color of your life’s thread, so to speak,” says Kyoko. Her lips quirk again, like she’s amused herself, then settle into the straight line once more.

“You’ve already faced one of your Shadows,” finishes Makoto. “And your first Persona has awakened.”

“My…” Shuichi stalls. Something is thrumming, burning in his heart. He doubles over, clutching at his chest. It hurts. It  _ hurts _ . There’s a sound screaming through the air now, and he thinks it might be coming from his own throat.

“We’ll see you again soon, Shuichi,” says Makoto, the promise evident in his tone. “We believe in you. Believe in us. Believe in the future full of hope.”

The surroundings fade into a blur of red. 

_ I am thou… _

He screams.

_ Thou art I… _

The voice is soft and gentle, but it hurts his ears all the same. 

_ And thou art many others… _

He’s lost track of everything except the voice in his ears and the pain in his blood. He doesn’t know where he is. The Trial Grounds are gone, but so is everything else.

_ I rise from your resolve... _

He can’t breathe. Something is pushing up from his heart, crawling up into his throat, scorching on his tongue.

_ Speak my name! _

It tears from out his mouth, his back arcing with the force of it.

“Lachesis!”

The fire leaves him. He collapses forward onto something warm and solid. There’s a vicious scream of metal from somewhere behind him. 

“Shuichi? Shuichi?”

He can hear the rumble of the voice from beneath his head. There’s hands on his shoulders now, holding tightly. He blinks. All he can see is purple. The red has subsided. The pain is a low ebb, growing fainter. There’s a heartbeat underneath him. It’s fast, too fast, but strong.

“What is that?”

Chabashira. Shuichi sits up, coming face to face with Kaito. He looks pale. His eyes dart over Shuichi’s face, then they flick up to look at something behind him. That’s right. Shuichi had jumped in front. Because...because a Shadow was coming.  _ A Shadow had been coming! _

Shuichi spins around from his place on the ground, and that’s when he finally sees her.

Lachesis hovers above the ground, a blinding white being. He knows that’s her name, instinctively. There are snakes curling around her neck and waist, venturing down her arms and back again. Her hair, a mess of colorful threads, wavers in every direction, extending outwards and away. They twirl around her limbs, but they don’t bind her. Most of the threads fade out, as if into a space Shuichi cannot see, but others are cut sharply. She smiles at him, and it’s a beautiful, tragic, joyful thing.  Behind her, the beastly Shadow sparks and twitches, writhing out its last death throes even as Shuichi watches. She must have defeated it.

_ I am Lachesis, determiner of destiny _ , she says. Her mouth doesn’t move, but Shuichi hears it all the same.  _ Human or Shadow, everything has a thread of life. I have heeded your resolve to make a mark on fate, and so I have manifested from you. _

“You’re...me?” Shuichi manages.

_ I am a part of you _ .  _ One part of many,  _ she answers.  _ The sea of your soul is vast and deep, my dear. You fear so much of yourself. When you overcame your fear of failure, I arrived. _

“Why?”

_ A question indeed! _ she laughs.  _ I am here to protect you. That at least, you may know for sure. _

She lowers herself, her bright white hand cupping his cheek. One of the snakes hisses at him, inches from his ear.  _ It may sound vain, but our thread of life is becoming quite beautiful, Shuichi Saihara. We shall make sure it does not get cut short. _

And with that, she is gone. Or...not. Because Shuichi can still feel her there, in his chest, not hot anymore but warm. A spark of steady light. He places his hand over where she is, and she presses back in greeting. All he would have to do is call her name, and she would reemerge, prepared to protect him.

“Hat boy’s got a Persona!”

Shuichi spins around again. Oma is awake, still clinging on to Keebo’s back. He props his elbow on Keebo’s shoulder and cups his face in one hand. His head is not quite high enough up to do this elegantly, so his hand smushes against his cheek. When he speaks again, it’s a little muffled by the awkward angle. “I’ve never met anybody else with a Persona before. But, you know, we don’t get many visitors down here in the first place.”

“Go back to sleep,” mutters Keebo. Kaito pushes himself back from Shuichi and stands up, walking towards the defeated monster on the ground. Chabashira is staring at Shuichi with a considering look on her face. It grows more and more irritated as Oma and Keebo continue.

“I was never asleep!”

“Yes, you were, I was monitoring your vitals-”

“I’ve trained every part of my body to be a liar, Keebo! Even my vitals!”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Yes-”

“Oi!” Chabashira interrupts, finally snapping. They stop their argument instantly, looking up like they had forgotten that there was anyone else with them. She points to Shuichi, glaring at Oma specifically. “I’ve been trying to understand, but I don’t get it! Explain! What’s a Persona?”

“I don’t know,” says Oma. “Keebo, what’s a Persona?”

“It’s, uh, you know, something that, you know, manifests your inner self into strength or some such...” mutters Keebo, growing quieter. It honestly sounds like they’re slowly turning down their volume rather than just fading to a mumble. “And it, uh, you know, can hurt Shadows for some reason or another…”

“There you go.”

“That doesn’t clear anything up!” Chabashira protests.

“I...I don’t have one,” says Keebo, still incredibly quiet. The glow of their eyes dims a touch. “So, I can’t really…”

Their mouth continues moving slightly, but their volume has apparently hit zero.

Oma, meanwhile, shrugs. “I’ve had one as long as I can remember. He’s never explained himself to me. Ah, damn, I probably should have come up with a good story anyway...”

“If you have one, then did you meet the-” the question cuts off as Shuichi chokes on the words. He tries again, but he can’t even start the question this time. What he wants to say gets clogged up in his throat, the letters jumbling together and tangling up. It’s like the sentence has dug claws to keep from getting out. He coughs, like he’s trying to dislodge food that was swallowed wrong. 

He can’t mention the Trial Grounds.

_ Why not?  _ He thinks of the three pairs of eyes in that blue, blue room.  _ Did one of them curse me? Or all of them? Or is it some part of being...chosen? A rule of the game? _

Lachesis is silent, even when he tries to address her in his mind.

“Did I...meet my Persona?” Oma fills in, incorrectly, after a long pause. “Well, duh. If I’d never met him, how would I know I had him? I can’t even lie about that, that’s a boring question.”

“Yours is a him? They don’t all look like that?” asks Chabashira.

“Oh yeah, mine’s a T-rex actually.”

“It’s a what!?”

“Just kidding! That was a lie.”

“Well, then, what is it!?”

“A dragon!”

“Basically, this means you can defend yourself now!” says Keebo encouragingly, their volume suddenly all the way up again. Oma whines, hands covering his ears. Keebo laughs apologetically, lowering their voice. “That’s wonderful!”

“It’s not a dragon either,” says Oma, hands still cupping his ears. “That was a lie.”

Chabashira tries to karate chop him on the head, but Keebo steps back swiftly before she makes contact with the boy on his back. Oma sticks out his tongue at her.

Shuichi glances back at where he’d dropped his scissors. He does kind of doubt now that he would have been able to defend himself at all with these. Not that he’d had much confidence in them from the get-go. He does move to pick them up anyway, weighing them in his hands. If he hadn’t summoned Lachesis, both he and Kaito probably would have been skewered by the monster.  _ Speaking of the monster _ …

The thing has stopped twitching. Shuichi approaches it cautiously. It seems safe. Kaito’s tapping it with his golf club, and it’s not giving any sort of response. Chabashira is still arguing with Keebo and Oma about their lack of information. Her yells, Keebo’s sighs, and Oma’s laughter fade into the background as Shuichi surveys the dead creature. It’s disgusting. A touch to its surface confirms that it’s mechanical, but Shuichi can see inside as well, and there’s definitely something fleshy in there. It smells metallic too- but metallic like blood, not like metal. The light of its red eye has gone out. 

“Hey, uh…” Shuichi looks up to Kaito, who’s swinging his golf club idly in front of him. “Thanks for the save back there.”

“Huh? I mean, I didn’t really do anything,” Shuichi says. _W_ _ e’d probably have been skewered if not for Lachesis.  _ He feels a twinge of displeasure that’s not quite his own. It’s strange, to be so aware of her, but not as strange as it should be.  _ That’s the strangest part. _ “I don’t know how I manifested a...a Persona. But if that hadn’t happened, we probably would have just both been dead right there. I just...didn’t want to do nothing.”

“Yeah, but still,” Kaito kicks at the golf club, up and down and up again. “That was a real...a real hero move.”

There’s an odd tone in that last line, but Kaito’s moving on before Shuichi can press him on it. He taps the monster with the golf club again, and it makes the dull noise of metal against metal. “This thing’s freaky, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shuichi says. “I don’t like it.”

Kaito snorts, swinging his golf club up across his shoulders with a grin. “Yeah, bro, I’d be worried if you liked it after it tried to maul us.”

“Useless!” Chabashira mutters, making Shuichi jump. He hadn’t noticed her coming up behind him. “Hey, Shuichi, you were talking to the...Persona thing. Did it explain anything to you?”

“Uh, well, she said that her name was Lachesis,” Shuichi offers. Chabashira looks unimpressed. She rolls her hand to urge him to go on. “And, uh, she said that she was a part of me.”

“What part?”

Shuichi shrugs helplessly. “I-I guess...uh...I mean, she didn’t really say that. Specifically. But she said she emerged because I...resolved to make my mark on fate. And that I...wasn’t afraid of failing. Anymore.”

“Just like that?” Kaito asks. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and he’s back to looking at the monster.

“Ah, I mean. More like...I decided I want to stop being afraid of it,” he says, uncertainly. Lachesis lights up, and he presses a hand against his chest.

“And...why was she female?” asks Chabashira. She grins all of a sudden. “Not that I disapprove! Probably just means she's stronger than Oma's!”

“I...don’t know,” Shuichi admits. He frowns, thinking. “Lachesis is a real goddess though, isn’t she? Or a nymph, or something? I used to have a big book of Greek myths as a kid, and I feel like it sounds familiar.”

“Nerd!” jeers Oma. Keebo reaches up a hand to try and cover his mouth.

“I don’t know that stuff, sorry bro,” Kaito says. Chabashira also shakes her head. “We can look it up when we go back.”

“She is,” says Keebo. They blink, eyes unfocused. “One of the three Fates. She was in charge of measuring lifespan and choosing people’s destinies. A lachesis is also a genus of venomous pit snake. Also known as bushmasters. I’ve never seen one before, however. We don't have snakes here.”

Their eyes shift, like a camera, looking at the three of them again.

_ Well, that explains the snakes, _ Shuichi thinks. Lachesis hisses at him, playfully.  _ How does Keebo know all these things if he lives here, in the TV? Or is that how he knows? _

“More importantly, you can fight with her, right?” Chabashira rubs her chin, tilting her head at him as she mumbles to herself. He doesn’t like the look in her eye. “I wonder how Neo-Aikido works on supernatural beings…?”

“N-neo-Aikido?” Shuichi stammers, backing away from her. _I don't like the sound of that._ “Uh, well, maybe-”

“Shouldn’t we get back to the reason we’re here?” asks Kaito.

Chabashira snaps back to focus, looking appropriately chagrined, and Shuichi turns back to the ominous doorway. The red and black swirls draw him in, even as they make him want to run far, far away. “Right, we should...we should go in.”

“Right,” says Kaito.

“Right…” says Chabashira.

None of them move forward.

“Right, well, we’ll be out here,” says Keebo.

“Huh?” Chabashira rounds on them again. “You’re not going in with us?”

“No, no,” says Keebo, taking a quick step back. “We will just see you when you get out of there. Best of luck.”

“What? No fair! I wanna go see what’s going on in there,” protests Oma. He attempts to jump off of Keebo’s back, but one of Keebo’s arms bends around backwards-  _ wow that’s a horrifying angle, even knowing they’re a robot-  _ in order to catch him around the shoulders and hold him still. “Oof! That’s not...ow! That’s not fair! No fair, no fair! Keebo, let me go!”

“We need you to get back though,” says Shuichi.

“We’re not going- Kokichi, you know pulling on my hair doesn’t do anything- going anywhere. We’re just also not going- stop!- in there.”

“Chabashira, maybe you should stay out here and make sure they don’t run off,” says Kaito as the two lose themselves in another argument. Chabashira makes a noise, but he cuts her off. “We’re screwed if they leave us, so somebody needs to watch them. And...Shuichi’s our method of defense now.”

“Well, why can’t  _ you _ -” Chabashira starts, but she brings herself up short. Her hands shake with the force of her clenched fists. She takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. The fire fades from her eyes, revealing something like understanding or- if Shuichi looks close enough- worry. “Fine. Jerk. But-” she points an aggressive finger in Kaito’s face, “-if I hear any screaming or crying or explosions or whatever, I’m coming in. And if you’re in there for more than ten minutes, I’m coming in, and-” she moves her finger to Shuichi’s face, “-if I get a bad vibe, I’m coming in. And you better tell me everything you see once you come out, no stupid ‘nothing much’ or some other typical male answer, got it?”

“I promise,” says Shuichi. Kaito holds up a three-fingered salute. 

Chabashira moves to stalk away, but she hesitates. In a fast, jerky motion, she turns back towards them and punches them both hard in the shoulder before hurriedly heading towards where Oma is trying to jam a finger into Keebo’s ear. As soon as she reaches them, Chabashira wrenches his hand away from the robot violently, sending him into loud shrieking tears. 

Shuichi clutches at the spot she hit. It stung.

“That’s textbook brand Chabashira tough love,” Kaito informs him, laughing a little. Shuichi smiles along.  _ It does kind of remind me of how Mom would ruffle my head too hard sometimes when she was worried _ . 

He turns to face the entrance way. He still can't go. His shoes are stuck to the floor. He’s encased in ice, frozen solid. Lachesis pushes forward, keeping Shuichi from backing away. But even her encouragement can’t get him started towards the door. The place that Chabashira punched throbs. He jumps when Kaito’s arm settles around his shoulders.

“Come on, bro.”

Shuichi closes his eyes as they move forward into the entrance. It’s reflexive, to take a step forward as Kaito does. But he doesn’t want to see that void coming closer. He focuses on Lachesis in his heart and Kaito by his side. He knows when they hit the threshold. Stepping into the vortex feels like he’s been hit with a bucketful of freezing cold water. It’s painful and shocking. He shivers violently at the sensation, and his eyes open involuntarily. 

It’s black. He can just barely make out auditorium seats around him, cast in the uneven red lights of the entrance way behind them. It’s silent too. All he can hear is his own breathing and Kaito’s.

_ Which is...weird sounding. _ He turns to try and look at him.

That’s when the stage lights snap on. Or rather, a single spotlight sends a harsh light straight into their eyes, back-lighting a grand piano. Shuichi squints against the glare. He can’t make out anyone at the bench but, despite the lack of a player, music starts to fill the hall. It’s a gentle and sad tune. Shuichi thinks he recognizes it. It sounds like something they might have listened to in elementary school, during quiet time. 

“Oh,” gasps Kaito, like he’s been punched.

_ This is a song called Clair de Lune _

Shuichi spins around. He’d been sure he’d heard the voice of a young girl, a painfully familiar but alien voice, right behind him. But he sees no one.

_ Honey, can you stop for a minute, I’m on the phone. _

A man’s voice this time. Shuichi spins again to try and find it. He’s knocked Kaito’s arm off from around his shoulders, and it falls heavily to dangle at Kaito’s side. He’s still staring at the piano. His shoulders are hunched defensively. His breathing is getting weirder.

The girl’s voice again.

_ This is a song called Clair de Lune _

He knows who it is now. Kaito probably recognized it instantly. Shuichi feels silly for not doing the same. Who else would it be? She’s who they had come to find, after all.

A woman next.

_ That’s nice, dear, now get your shoes on. _

The girl’s voice. It’s higher than he remembers it, and it rings delicately through the hall like jingle bells. It’s a distinctly young tone, one that she must have inevitably grown out of. Even still, he can hear her now. Shuichi can hear Akamatsu. 

_ This is a song called Clair de Lune _

A boy’s voice, familiar too. Kaito breathes in sharply, then begins to cough.

_ That’s about the moon right? Hey, Kaede, want to go stargazing tonight? We might really see a UFO this time! _

_ That was Kaito, wasn’t it? Young, too, but still Kaito. _ He can’t really hear what comes next, not against the rattling sound of Kaito’s coughs. Shuichi reaches towards him. 

“Hey, Kaito! Kaito!” 

Kaito falls to one knee. Shuichi follows him, hands hovering uselessly, trying to catch his eyes. 

“Kaito! Wh-what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“God, would you shut the fuck up and listen to  _ me  _ for once?”

Shuichi’s head snaps towards the sound.

She’s there. At the piano, in a long black and white evening dress. Her fingers are moving across the keys, faster and heavier, distorting the peaceful mood of the music into something twisted and angry. “All you want to talk about is yourselves. And you need a willing ear to listen, don’t you? Thank god that there’s good old Kaede, kind Kaede, gentle Kaede, pushover Kaede! She doesn’t have any wants or fears or desires of her own, after all!”

The notes aren’t even right at this point. It’s just a fist slamming into a piano, over and over again. His head pounds with each raging chord. His eyes flicker between Akamatsu at the piano and Kaito, still beside him, heaving in and out pained, horrible breaths.

“Akamatsu!” he calls out. She stops playing at the sound of it.

“Akamatsu?” she asks, bemused. “Do you mean Kaede Akamatsu? Who’s that?”

He freezes.  

“Kaede? The girl everybody loves? What can you tell me about her?” The Akamatsu at the piano bench turns to look straight at Shuichi, and he catches his breath. Everything is the same as he remembers. Almost. Her eyes are the one difference. One of them is solid, pure black. No whites, no iris, no pupil. Just an endless, empty void. It's so disturbing that Shuichi almost doesn't process the other one. It's red. Glowing, pulsing red. Mechanical. Just like the Shadow outside. She continues to speak, mindless of his shock. “Kaede? The girl who’s everybody’s friend? What do you know about her?”

“I...I don’t…” Shuichi stammers. He looks desperately to Kaito, but he’s curled into a ball, hands clutching at his chest. There’s too much happening. He doesn’t know what to do. He has to do something. _I decided I had to do something!_ “What do you want me to say?”

“Want…?” she asks, as if taken aback.

The silence stretches, broken only by Kaito’s coughs. Shuichi kneels down again, pushing at his shoulders. He needs to sit up straight. Kaito bats Shuichi’s hands away. His face is screwed up tight.

“She spent so long being everything for everyone else, that she doesn’t even know anything about herself,” Akamatsu says quietly. She plays a few notes, discordant. “She’s nobody. She’s everybody. She’s whatever you want her to be. Eventually she stopped trying to be anybody. She want somebody to listen, to see her, but, at the same time, she couldn’t let them. Because what if somebody finally listens, and she discovered she had nothing to say? I don’t want a future like that.” 

She pauses. “Why did I even like this song?”

She starts it up again, as slow and sad as it had begun. With finality, she declares: “Humanity is made up of nothing but a bunch of fakes and frauds.”

The stage light switches off with a bang. Another one, falling straight down into the audience, comes on not a second later, accompanied by the sound of raucous applause.

“Bravo! Bravo!” says Kaito. “Couldn’t agree with you more!”

Shuichi snaps his head up. Kaito is still in front of him, curled up to keep Shuichi’s outstretched hands away from him. He hadn’t said anything, probably couldn’t if he tried, not the way he’s gasping. But there, in the light, is also Kaito. That one turns his head to Shuichi. It's the same. The same as the Akamatsu at the piano. Everything is an exact replica of Kaito. Everything except for those  _eyes_.

“Hey, bro! Hey, me!” this Kaito calls out. “I’m afraid we all missed the performance. It’s just the encore now. I know the hero’s gotta have that late, dramatic entrance, but you’re still supposed to, ya know, make it in time. Oh right. We’re not really _supposed_ to run. No wonder we were too slow.”

Kaito lets out a wheeze. The other Kaito is still approaching. Shuichi hooks his arms around Kaito’s armpits and tries to drag him further away from his doppelganger. Kaito keeps pulling at Shuichi’s arms, trying to shake him off. He stammers as he tries to speak. “I can’t-” Gasp. “-can’t-” Gasp. “-breathe.”

“Ah, come on, that’s not how a hero acts,” says the other Kaito. 

“Kaito’s one of the worst of them,” sighs the other Akamatsu from the stage, still in the darkness. “Not that I have much room to talk.”

“You stopped fooling people from the first time it happened in public,” laughs the other Kaito, waving his arms in the air. “Right in the middle of the field! Everyone was there! Such a small town. There was never a chance for us. You got that red stamp right on your forehead: Fragile. Handle with care.”

“When you know the truth, it’s hard to go along with lies. With Kaito, it almost hurts,” says the other Akamatsu. “I understand though. He’s just so fragile. You’ve got to be careful.”

Something falls out of Kaito’s pocket as Shuichi continues to pull him backwards, away from the Kaito approaching them. Shuichi goes to grab it, dodging Kaito’s attempt to stop him. He holds it up close to his face so he can see it. It’s an inhaler.

“Shuichi was an opportunity,” both the imposters say together.

“A chance to be somebody,” whispers the other Akamatsu. “To be worth something.”

“A chance to be somebody!” shouts the other Kaito. “To be worth something!”

“But that’s the end of that now.”

Shuichi stops pulling at Kaito, propping him up against the side of a seat and trying to give him his inhaler. “Come on, Kaito, sit up straight. Sit up straight, it helps the air get in. Take this, it’ll help. Don’t listen.”

“Now he knows what we really are,” says the other Kaito, and Shuichi spins around to see him hovering over them, his face split in a grin. His heart skips.  _ He’d been so far away before. How’d he get so close so fast? _ Lachesis is tense inside his chest. “With this condition, we’ll always be nothing. Worthless. Fragile.”

“Shut up!” Kaito manages. It’s thin and awful-sounding, and it tears out of him through hurtful breaths. “Shut up! Who the hell-” Gasp. “-do you think-” Gasp. “-you are?”

“I’m you,” says the other Kaito. “Of course. And you’re me.”

Kaito shakes his head. “No.”

The other Kaito grins even wider. “No? But I know you. We know what we are. We’ve seen the way everybody watches us, like they’re afraid we’ll break down any second. Like we’re pitiable. ‘The Momota house might as well be an old folks’ home,’ they say. ‘Poor kid, still thinking he can go to space,’ they’d whisper. We’re never going to get anywhere. Everybody else can run towards the future. We can’t even stand on our own two feet. Can’t be a hero. Can’t even be a normal person.”

“Shut up!” roars Kaito, impossibly loud and full of rage. Shuichi falls back away from him at the force. “You’re not me!”

Clair de Lune stops.

The other Kaito backs away. He begins to laugh. The spotlight that had been following him snaps off and his laughter snaps off it, and there’s a brief moment of darkness that feels like an eternity.

And then all the lights turn on.

Shuichi looks at the stage.

His eyes widen.

His mouth opens as if to scream, but nothing comes out.

The monster they’d seen outside, it had been terrifying. The second worst thing Shuichi had seen in his life. It’s nothing compared to the monstrosity towering before them

It’s wearing an astronaut helmet on its head. That must be what it's supposed to be, but it looks all wrong. The visor is busted up into sharp shards of glass, with a lightning bolt shaped hole where the left eye would be, red light shining through. It flashes and focuses. There's no way to tell where it's looking, but Shuichi knows it's looking at him. On the bottom half of the helmet, there's a gaping hole where bared teeth glint on only the right side, the other full of empty, ragged gums. Its cape flutters behind it, full of holes, black and white. Its chest is thin, hollow and caved in, showing a sunken pair of lungs, expanding and contracting with each peal of laughter. But its arms and legs are metal and full of claws, even as gashes show bone and muscle beneath. It towers above them, tall enough to easily crush Shuichi under its foot. Ridiculous. Impossible. Unbalanced. Absurd.

It makes Shuichi want to vomit.

Kaito makes a noise from beside him, and Shuichi looks back just in time to see his eyes roll up in his head. He pitches to the side as his own voice continues to laugh from above them. Shuichi catches him, stopping his head from slamming against the ground. He doesn’t know what to do. He has to do something. He screams.

“CHABASHIRA!”

Nobody comes. Lachesis is pushing against his chest, wanting to be let out.

“CHABASHIRA!”

Kaito’s not waking up. Shuichi can’t tell if he’s breathing. He gathers all of his strength, throwing his head back and calling out.

“TENKO!”

His voice booms, like he’s screaming from the loudspeakers.

There's a sound from the entrance way, and Chabashira is running over to his side. He sees Keebo and Oma appear behind her, Oma finally off Keebo's back, but both of them pull up short to stare at the monstrosity on the stage. Oma recovers faster. Keebo reaches out as if to grab Oma by the shoulder, but they miss as Oma starts running towards it with a gleeful look on his face. Keebo shouts after him, sounding scared.

“Did he have an attack?” Chabashira asks, lifting Kaito from the ground like he weighs nothing and depositing him into one of the seats. She rests a hand in his hair, the other one reaching towards Shuichi expectantly. “Okay. Give me that.”

Shuichi holds out the inhaler for her to take.

“Anansi! Come!”

Shuichi looks towards the stage. Kokichi is facing the monster, his Persona appearing beside him. It’s not a dragon or a T-rex, but instead something that looks like a giant spider. He sends it towards the monster. Shuichi starts when a metal hand rests on his back, and he turns to find Keebo far too close to him, their glowing green eyes wide and pleading. “Shuichi, please help Kokichi fight! He’s too tired for this!”

“But, I-” Shuichi looks towards the slumped over form of Kaito.

“Defeating the Shadow will help your friend, I swear! And I...I will help him too! I can heal him like I healed you,” says Keebo, desperately. “Please!”

Shuichi looks to Chabashira. She doesn’t look at him. Instead, she offers a few words. “I thought you said you want to change?”

Lachesis alights within his chest, and Shuichi finds himself on his feet, facing down the stage again. Oma flies away from the Shadow with the force of its backhand, snagging a web from his Persona and swinging from it. His nose is bleeding from the hit. Keebo leans over Kaito, their hands glowing green like they had with Shuichi, and starts muttering to themselves. 

_ I can do this. This is what I can do. _

He takes off down the aisle.

“Come on!” the Shadow says, in a mechanical approximation of Kaito's voice. “I’m not fragile anymore, not in this world!”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Oma says, jumping to the floor again. As Shuichi skids to a halt beside him on the stage, his Persona moves to attack. Shuichi looks up at it, noticing the grinning human-faced mask on its front. The mouth of the mask opens and webs shoot out to wrap around the monster’s legs, sticking them together and making the creature lose its balance and fall to the floor. It doesn’t seem phased, quickly tearing through the webbing with its claws and standing upright again. 

“Hey, bro!” it calls. Oma’s eyes flicker towards Shuichi, noticing him there, before refocusing on the Shadow. It continues, its huge astronaut head shaking back and forth. “Ah, I guess I shouldn’t call you that. You pity me like everybody else now, huh?”

Shuichi shakes his head. “No.”

“I thought you were weak,” the Shadow continues. It lunges towards him, claws at the ready, and Lachesis pops out to stop it, moving one of her strings carefully and sending the monster’s strike way off track. “You’d take whatever I said at face value! I could convince you I was someone amazing! Compared to you, maybe I could be! Maybe I could find my future! The future I wanted! The one I was supposed to have!”

The spider shoots its webs again, from the side this time. While the Shadow is distracted by the onslaught, Oma starts running towards it. Lacheis shifts a thread, making him faster, able to avoid the sloppy punch directed his way. With a knife that must have been hidden in his clothes, Oma slashes at an exposed spot on the arm, causing blood to spurt from within the mechanical shell. The Shadow screams. It sends shockwaves through Shuichi's skull.

“You are amazing!” Shuichi shouts. “You already are!”

The eye on the astronaut helmet flashes, and the monster holds out its bleeding arm with intention. Suddenly, Shuichi is being pulled in. His hat is ripped from off his head before he can grab at it. He tries to hold his ground, but the force is just getting stronger. It’s like a steadily increasing gravity. Just as he begins to slip, webs attach to his feet, holding him in place. He still topples forward on to his face, banging his head. One of Lachesis threads begins to fray. He pushes his head up, reflexes causing him to shoot out an arm and catch Oma by the wrist as he goes flying past him.

“But it turns out you were better than me too!” laughs the Shadow as Shuichi holds on to Oma with all his might. “See, look at you! That’s what a real hero does!”

“That’s not...the only way to be a hero!” Shuichi grits out.

“This guy is pretty dull, huh?” Oma says, conversationally, like he’s not swaying through the air like a kite.

“No, he's not,” Shuichi says sharply. “Can’t you do something?”

“Already on it, hat boy. Oh wait, your hat’s gone. What am I supposed to call you then, that was like your one distinguishing feature.”

The force stops, and they hit the ground. Shuichi looks up to see the spider Persona hovering near the Shadow’s ear, as if it’s whispering something. He releases Oma’s wrist as the boy pulls himself to his feet. His are still webbed in place.

“And...and there, I’m a real astronaut?” the monster says, its voice awed. The spider nods. It makes a cackling sound that might be speech, but Shuichi can’t understand. “Really? Is this true? I don’t remember that?”

“It’s confused. Adorable,” says Oma. He flashes his knife again, spinning it in one hand. “We gotta get it in that eye. Counting on you, not-hat boy.”

“My name is Saihara, you know!” Shuichi calls after him as he takes off. “You could just call me that!”

“Boring!”

Shuichi’s already got Lachesis on it. She fiddles with a thread, giving Oma more power than he had before. He jumps upwards, catching on one of the exposed lungs and swinging on it. Shuichi suppresses the renewed urge to vomit. The Shadow makes a horrible noise and goes to grab at the boy in its chest. Oma nimbly dodges, making it punch itself in the middle as he lands on the Shadow’s arm. He loses his balance, however, when the Shadow keels forward from the pain. He digs his knife into the flesh beneath the mechanical plating, the other hand scrambling for purchase.

Shuichi sprints forward. Oma’s Persona shoots webs towards him, hitting his chest and pulling him in faster. Before the Shadow can seize Oma with its other hand, Shuichi pulls his scissors from his pockets and stabs it in the wrist. Hot blood splashes on his face. The Shadow screams again, and Shuichi grits his teeth.

Oma gets to his feet, climbing his way up to the shoulder. Lachesis pulls on a thread. Oma leaps up, hovering one long second, suspended by his spider’s web. 

Then he buries his knife in the monster’s eye.

It screams and bursts into a cloud of fog. The blood on Shuichi's face dries up. He rubs his eyes, blinking hard. When it dissipates, all that’s left is Oma dangling from a web, his Persona slowly lowering him to the ground, and…

The other version of Kaito, staring silently.

“Why...why’s it still there?” Shuichi asks as Oma hops down next to him.

“Why would I kn- uh,” Oma swallows the mistake and grins mischievously. “I mean, it can never be satisfied until it murders its other and takes its place in the real world!” Oma throws his arms up over his head. “It will follow in his shadow, in his footsteps, in the regrowing black roots of his hair until-”

“Hey.”

Shuichi swings around. The real Kaito is there, supported with an arm around Keebo and Chabashira’s hand on his shoulder. His eyes are fixed on his doppelganger.

“Sorry,” says Kaito. “I just didn’t want to admit it.”

He gently shrugs off Chabashira and moves away from Keebo, making his way forward. Shuichi keeps himself from reaching towards him as he passes. Kaito’s Shadow watches his approach with a blank expression.

“I think I understand now. I mean. Yeah, I do,” Kaito kneels down to sit on the floor in front of his Shadow. “I probably feel all those things. I mean, I do. The ugly parts and the painful parts. But I’m always going to be sick. There’s nothing I can do to change that.” 

The Shadow’s expression crumples, but Kaito doesn’t stop speaking. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t find another path. To a future I want. I can’t do everything. But I want to find what I can do. I want to stop being afraid of what my condition might do. I want to stop being afraid of breaking,” Kaito holds out his hand. “So let’s change together.”

The Shadow closes its eyes and nods just slightly, reaching out its own hand to grasp at Kaito’s. It flashes white, blinding. Shuichi covers his eyes against it. When he turns back, squinting, there’s a new figure there. Not a monster this time, but just as grand. It stands straight and proud, like a great warrior, eyes and nose hidden behind a Nordic-looking helmet with horns. However, it still reveals the soft smile on its face. In one hand, a plant has wrapped around the skin, digging in tightly. Blood drips down its fingers, between the vines, vanishing before it hits the floor. Still, he brandishes his club at the ready in his other hand. He lets off a light, somehow different than Lachesis or Oma’s Spider. The warrior says some words that Shuichi can’t understand, but Kaito’s face brightens as it disappears into his chest.

It takes another moment for Kaito to get to his feet and look back at the rest of them. His expression is uncharacteristically uncertain-  _ or perhaps, it is in character. He just never let himself show it- _ but he finally smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry you all had to hear that. And, uh, sorry to Shuichi and Oma for having to fight. And, uh, especially Shuichi. I didn’t mean to be jealous.”

“No!” Shuichi bursts out, stumbling forward. To his embarrassment, he can feel tears coming to his eyes. “I-I’m glad you...I’m glad you think I’m…”

“Cool?” asks Kaito. He comes in and wraps his arm around Shuichi’s shoulder. He’s warm, and he’s breathing fine. Shuichi latches on to it. “Of course you’re cool, bro!"

“Do you really think so?”

They all spin. Akamatsu is back, sitting at the piano bench. The piano itself has not reappeared. She’s just sitting, looking at them with blankness in her eyes. “Do you? Humanity is such a bunch of fakes.”

“She really thought that, huh?” Chabashira says softly. She holds out a hand as if to reach out to the girl in front of her, but she thinks better of it. She clutches the hand to her chest instead. It's shaking.

“Shadows born from humans speak the deepest secrets, the things the person themselves would never want to say,” Keebo answers. They're propping up Oma as his head lolls back and forth like a bobblehead. He seems like he’s about to fall asleep again at any second. “Everything it says is the true feelings of the person it’s based on.”

“Just th’ fears,” Oma slurs. Keebo pats the side of his head. 

“Now that her real version is...gone, it won’t be here much longer,” Keebo continues.

Akamatsu gives no reaction to that. Shuichi swallows. 

“Akamatsu…” Shuichi starts. Her eyes don’t flicker from where they’re staring blanking into space. His tongue feels thick in his mouth. He can’t continue. He doesn't have to.

“Kaede, I’m not going to be a fake anymore,” Kaito says. He approaches her Shadow without the slightest bit of fear. Chabashira lets out a little yelp when he leans forward to wrap his arms around Akamatsu’s unmoving form, but the Shadow makes no movement. Not to hurt him, nor to hug him back. “So I promise. We’re going to figure out who hurt you. Because...you deserved to figure out who you were. Even if you didn’t mean anything you said, you were always there for me. And it helped me. It helped me so much. You’re still my best friend. So, go and rest soon, okay?”

He lets her go. The Shadow is looking at him now. In her black eye, there’s something welling. A tear tracks down her cheek. Chabashira presses her hands to her mouth as she lets out a pained sound. Kaito presses his forehead against the Shadow’s, whispers something else, and then he stands up and backs away. 

“Bye, Kaede,” sobs Chabashira. She rubs at her face, wiping tears with her sleeves. She takes a hiccupy breath and takes a step forward, reaching out. But she stops before she reaches the Shadow, backing away again. “Bye.”

“Bye, Akamatsu,” says Shuichi. The Shadow is still crying, silently. “I hope you find peace.”

She stares after them as they leave. Shuichi looks back the whole time, holding her gaze steadily, until the red and black void takes them away.

-

As soon as they get outside, Chabashira falls to the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest and wailing into them. Shuichi and Kaito hover over her without touching her. Her back heaves as she lets out another wail. Keebo leans over curiously. Oma is back to sleep on their back. “Is she hurt anywhere? Can I assist?”

“I don’t think so,” Shuichi answers quietly.

“Come on, Chabashira,” says Kaito gently. “It’s okay.”

“I-I was so scared!” she sobs into her knees. “Y-you were all going to die, a-and I- I- and she’s- she’s really gone!

Kaito kneels down in front of her as she continues to babble. “She’s really gone! I don’t know- I thought- maybe we’d get here and somehow- but- she’s just- she’s just-”

Kaito reaches out to wrap her arms around her. Shuichi’s half expecting Chabashira to kick out a foot and get him in the gut, even in this state. Instead, she just moves her head to bury her face into his shoulder and continues to weep. Kaito covers his own face. He’s starting to shake now. Shuichi sits next to him, leaning on his back. He reaches up to tip down his hat, but he realizes it isn’t there anymore. So, instead, he just stares at his own drawn-up knees. 

Keebo manages to sit down as well, swinging Oma around and positioning him so that he’s laying down with his head in the robot’s lap. Oma starts to snore a little, his mouth wide open and drooling. Keebo fiddles with the loose button on Oma’s sleeve as their eyes flicker between them. They look unsure. Shuichi wonders if they often fiddles with Oma’s button while the boy sleeps, for lack of anything else to do.  _ Maybe that’s why it’s loose. _

It takes forever. It takes no time at all. But somehow, eventually, Chabashira grows quieter. Kaito stops shaking. The tears dry up.

“Ah, what am I doing?” she says, her voice stuffed. She sniffles. Pushing Kaito away, she wipes at her red eyes. “Crying in this sort of situation…”

“Thanks for coming in to help back there, Chabashira,” Shuichi says, earnestly. She looks at him and stops, blinking. He can feel his face coloring, but he doesn’t lower his eyes. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Yeah, Chabashira, thanks!” Kaito enthuses. He slaps her on the back. “I might’ve died!”

“Saihara, your hat’s gone,” Chabashira says. Kaito looks towards him and makes a sound of surprise. “Did you lose it in there?”

“Oh yeah!” Kaito reaches over and tugs at the strand of Shuichi’s hair that sticks up. “I didn’t notice!”

“Be a bit more observant! Ugh, boys are the worst at this.”

Shuichi fiddles with his bangs and tries a smile. “It fell off in there. It’s fine."

"You sure?" asks Kaito. "We could...go back..."

Shuichi thinks about it. He doesn't know how he'll feel in the morning, surrounded by crowds once again. There will be nowhere to hide. But, at this moment, on the floor of the mysterious world inside the TV, Shuichi feels just fine. Kaito and Chabashira and Keebo are all looking at him, but that's it. They're just looking. They're just eyes. 

"Akamatsu was telling me that I should try showing my eyes more," he smiles, looking at them all straight on. "I was always hiding so I didn't have to see the truth. The things that everybody hides. But...I don’t want to be afraid of seeing the world anymore.”

There’s suddenly another pain in his chest, and he gasps. Lachesis makes a sound of excitement. 

_ I am thou, thou art I. _

Kaito grabs his shoulders as Shuichi doubles over. “What’s going on now?”

_ And thou art many others… _

“A...Persona?” asks Keebo. “A-another?”

_ I rise from your resolve... _

The feeling from before. Something is pushing up from his heart, crawling up into his throat, scorching on his tongue.

_ Speak my name! _

“Thallo!”

There’s a blinding flash of light, and then she appears. It's easier this time. He's not confused or disoriented. Instead, he just takes her in. Her skin is a tapestry of colors, covered up by even more as vines and buds of flowers tangle around her limbs. She’s smaller than Lachesis, like a pixie, and she giggles at Shuichi’s expression. 

_ Hi! _ she starts. Then she covers her mouth and giggles again.  _ Oh, I’m supposed to start with a formal introduction. Ahem! _  she curtsies to him theatrically.  _I_ _ am Thallo of the blossoming flowers! _

“Th-the blossoming flowers?” Shuichi asks.

_ That’s right! You’re finally blossoming, Shuichi!  _ she exclaims. She does a backflip in the air, and he finally notices the hummingbird wings on her back.  _ You’ve finally decided that you’re ready to grow again! _

_ To think I was excited for a moment there, _ says Lachesis, manifesting beside Thallo. The pixie covers her mouth with her hands in surprise.  _ But it’s only a fly on the wall. _

_ Oh Lachesis, it’s been so long!  _ Thallo enthuses, circling the other Persona.  _ How is my thread? May I see it, oh may I see it? _

“I didn’t know you could have more than one Persona,” Keebo says slowly, watching as the two beings interact. They sound wary.

“You didn’t know anything about Personas in the first place,” Chabashira shoots back. She pokes Shuichi in the shoulder. “Hey, hey, what are they saying? Are they talking about any mystical secrets we should know about.”

“No...not really,” he says. Honestly, everything is sort of fading out. He feels a little lightheaded. “I’m so tired.”

_ Look, you’ve tired him out _ , Lachesis says crossly.

_ I have? _ asks Thallo with affront.  _ What about you? _

They both round on Shuichi with matching expressions of stern concern. It looks less natural on Thallo.

_ You must take better care of your thread. _

_ Blossoming flowers need rest to reach their full beauty! _

His two Persona disappear in another flash of light, settling inside of his heart. He feels a little better, instantly. He wonders if keeping them manifested saps from his energy.  _ It must be a phenomenon like Oma’s sleepiness.  _ Still, he staggers to his feet. Even with them back in their place, he feels empty and drained. “We should head back for the night.”

“We should come back tomorrow,” Chabashira says.

“You’re…” Keebo’s eyes flicker between each of them. “You’re going to come back?”

“People are being thrown in here and dying for it! Of course we’re coming back!” Chabashira jumps to her feet. If he hadn’t seen it himself, Shuichi would have never believed that she’d just been crying. “The police would never believe this, so we’re the ones who have to get justice for Kaede and Junko Enoshima.”

“...But can’t you just do that on your side?” asks Keebo. 

“I’ve still got a bunch of questions to ask you two,” Chabashira counters. If Keebo wasn’t a robot, Shuichi had a feeling that they’d be sweating.  _ Is it just because we’re a hassle, or…  _ He doesn’t get the time to finish his thought, because Chabashira is addressing him and Kaito next. “You two are in, right?”

“Obviously!” Kaito says, cracking his knuckles. 

“I got questions for you too, Shuichi!” says Chabashira.

“Right,” Shuichi says. He nods firmly. “Right. We can figure this out. We won’t let it happen again.”

_ We can try, at least. _

-

Keebo leads them back to where they entered, bidding them goodbye with an unreadable expression. Shuichi’s got a feeling that the robot isn’t exactly looking forward to seeing them again. Chabashira also sneaks them out of Junes, right back the way they came. Shuichi had almost forgotten that they’d broken in.

They walk home together silently, only breaking off when they have to. Shuichi can hardly keep himself walking in a straight line, he’s so tired. Kaito pauses before turning off. Chabashira has already taken off towards her own house. “Hey, you gonna make it home, okay? I can keep walking with you.”

Shuichi gathers himself together enough to offer a smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text when I get there.”

Kaito claps him on the shoulder and heads off. 

Shuichi drags himself the rest of the way to Detective Hinata’s house somehow. As soon as he sees the shape of it come into view, he sends off the promised text. He doesn't want to forget. Then, he considers his options.

_ I could try to scale the tree back into my window. But I don’t think I’m awake enough for that. I did bring my key, didn’t I? Yeah, it’s in my pocket. Considering what happened this morning, it’s probable that the Detective didn’t come back. So, the front door’s probably safe.  _

It’s not.

“...Hinata, issat you?” a voice slurs in the darkness. Shuichi pauses. His eyes are adjusted to the dark already from being outside, so he can see as Komaeda pushes himself up into a sitting position from the couch. He wonders, if he just stays still and quiet enough, if Komaeda will chalk it up to a dream and go back to sleep. But it only takes another moment before Komaeda is snapping into alertness. “Shuichi? What...did you go out?”

“Sorry…” Shuichi whispers. He clears his throat. He’s so exhausted. He takes a few steps in. “I didn’t think you would be here.”

“So you didn’t think you’d get caught?” Komaeda asks flatly. Shuichi ducks his head. “Detective Hinata dropped me off. I was at the doctor’s the morning when they found… well, the body. He told me to get more rest. So, Detective Hinata dropped me off here at around midnight.”

That was after Shuichi had left. “Why not your apartment?”

“In case you or Chi-chan needed anything,” Komaeda says steadily. The silence stretches, Shuichi looking at the floor and Komaeda looking at his own hands. Finally, Komaeda sighs and gestures Shuichi over, shifting on the couch to make room. “Come over here.”

Shuichi collapses next to him. Komaeda hands him a pillow to hold then peers at Shuichi through the darkness. “I won’t tell. But you can’t go making a habit of it. We’d all be very upset if something happened to you. Especially Chi-chan.”

“I’m sorry,” Shuichi whispers. In his exhaustion, he can feel embarrassed tears coming to his eyes. He buries his face in the pillow. “I’m sorry.”

Shuichi feels a light, fragile touch on his back. It moves back and forth lightly, soothingly. When Komaeda speaks, he sounds far away. “Listen, I know how upset you must be. Well, not to presume, actually. I’m sure I don’t know how you’re feeling,” he pauses. “Ah, I’m not good at this. I’ve never been good at it. A classmate’s sister died in high school, and I said some rather, uh...cruel things, let’s say,” he laughs, half-heartedly. Shuichi lifts his head from the pillow to look at him, only to see him staring in the direction of the photo near the entryway. “My...someone else I knew told me that I was probably having trouble understanding grief because I didn’t know what it was like to not be grieving. I had grown too used to it. Ah, that’s tangential. Sorry

Komaeda lifts his hand off Shuichi’s back, placing it back in his own lap. “But, um, what I mean to say is, don’t let your grief turn into self-destructive behavior. Channel it into something productive instead. That’s what...that’s the advice I was given.”

Komaeda glances at Shuichi to find him looking back, and his gaze skitters away again. “Sorry, I suppose that advice was uncalled for.”

Shuichi shakes his head

“That sounds like what my mom told me, when she sent me here,” Shuichi admits softly. “To find a way to take my regret and use it for something.”

_ “I think this is a good chance for you,” she’d said, holding his hand. She’d just told him about her new photography project. How far away it was. How long it’d be. Where he’d be. “I’ll miss you so much. But you’ll get to start fresh. Take all that regret and find a way to channel it into change.” _

“I think it’s good advice,” says Shuichi finally.

“Well, of course it is, if your mom said it.”

Shuichi’s eyes keep drifting shut. He sags forward on to the pillow. He doesn’t want to climb up the stairs to his empty bedroom. Muffled through the fabric, he asks, “Do you think you could turn on the TV?”

Komaeda hesitates, but he reaches forward for the remote. “Sure.”

Shuichi doesn’t remember falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right below here I’m gonna have some notes on each of the Persona introduced this chapter so you can learn about them/hear my reasoning for them. But, before that, the important stuff! As always, thanks to everyone reading, commenting, and following along. I’m having a lot of fun writing this, even when it gets hard! I hope you’re having fun too.
> 
> As I said last chapter, the next update will be August 2nd, and we should be good to go back to the first Friday of each month after that. Based on how this one went, there may be some chapters I have to take extra time for, but not yet.
> 
> Anyway, Personas!
> 
> Shuichi!  
> Lachesis:  
> As mentioned in the chapter, Lachesis is one of the three Fates in Greek mythology. Clotho is the one that spins the thread and Atropos cuts the thread, but Lachesis is the one in charge of measuring the thread. She decides how much time is to be given to each person as well as apparently choosing that person's destiny. The Fates were very powerful beings- even the gods could not fight their decisions.  
> Lachesis appears to Shuichi at the moment he decides to take charge of his destiny. He's not just letting the world carry him along anymore. He decides to challenge his fear of failure in order to move forward. I felt like Lachesis suited that.  
> I would imagine her abilities would be buffs and debuffs. We see her give Kokichi speed and lower the accuracy of the Shadow. Her defeat of the first monster was mostly the power of her awakening.
> 
> Thallo:  
> This is a lesser known Greek deity. She's one of the Horae, which is a group that has a lot of different members depending on where you look. However, they're basically goddesses of the seasons and natural order which manifests both as nature stuff and as more abstract concepts like justice. Thallo, for her part, is the personification of Spring and the protector of new growth.  
> Shuichi becomes that new growth when he accepts his hat as lost and starts letting in the world again. He's basically a flower finally starting to photosynthesize.  
> Thallo's probably going to have some fun vine attacks as well as some status ailments, but we'll leave that for later chapters
> 
> Kokichi!  
> Anansi:  
> This was the easiest one to come up with. Anansi just works for Kokichi. He often takes the form of a spider in West African/Caribbean folklore and is often known as a (P5 Igor voice) trickster. That doesn't mean he was a bad guy, however. He's just a bit too mischievous and a bit too smart. Anansi is known as a storyteller and a teller of stories, which fits in with Kokichi's love of lies. He'll play gods and humans against each other as much as he likes in order to get what he wants.  
> We see in this chapter Anansi using his webs for mobility and distraction as well as using a story to implement a status effect. 
> 
> Kaito!  
> A side note on Kaito's illness. I'm kind of just imagining he has really bad asthma here. He's not dying at all, he just can't do everything he wants to do. I did some research, but I'm not expert on the condition. 
> 
> Baldr:  
> If you played God of War last year, you may know a bit about Baldr. He was apparently very beloved by the gods of Norse mythology, and he was generally considered a pretty swell guy. However, he also had a bit of a warlike side as well as based on the etymology of his name and a few other things. Still, he’s mostly known for the story of his death. He was known as a god that nothing could harm, but it turns out he was sensitive to mistletoe. So, of course, Loki threw that at him and slew him. A bit more complicated than that but yeah.  
> It reminds me of Kaito, because of how he wants to appear invincible even when he has this glaring weakness. But that doesn't make him weak. So the design of Baldr wears that weakness proudly, unlike how he might have as an actual mythological figure.  
> He’s probably going to be a physical Persona.


	5. A Lie or Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned to you in order to drop this new chapter upon you. Now, if you will excuse me, I've got some more Fire Emblem: Three Houses to play. Cry with me about the Blue Lions. Probably we can cry about the other houses too, but I'm not there yet.

Shuichi wakes up slowly to the sound of unsteady, out-of-tune humming. He’s in the living room, stretched out on the couch. The television is off. He blinks. It takes another minute for him to acclimate himself, reaching up to rub his eyes and wincing as a sore spot on his forehead pangs. He prods at it cautiously and, with the pain, the events of the night before all come rushing back into his head. 

_Trial Grounds._

_Persona._

_Akamatsu._

_Kaito._

_And then, we went home and.._

He jolts upward, looking around until he finds Komaeda in the kitchen, humming and making breakfast. He immediately feels guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take the couch from you.”

“No worries,” says Komaeda. The bruises under his eyes are dark, but he’s smiling. “It’s Sunday, so feel free to go back to sleep for a little longer. I’m just waiting for Chi-chan to get up before heading to the station.”

“Won’t you be late?” Shuichi asks, shifting around to put his feet on the floor. 

“Detective Hinata told me not to show my face before nine-thirty,” Komaeda laughs. “To rest.” 

Shuichi winces in guilt again, but Komaeda just shakes his head. “It’s more that he wanted someone to be here for you two this morning.”

“Right… but still…”

“It’s fine, Shuichi,” Komaeda assures him. “I’m fine.”

Silence falls. Shuichi fiddles with his hands in his lap, and his mind drifts back to the previous night. _He said he wouldn’t tell, but…_ “Um…”

“I won’t tell him anything,” Komaeda answers Shuichi’s unvoiced question. The rice cooker goes off. Steam rises when he pops open the lid, and the smell of fresh rice fills the room. “Just...well. Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Shuichi promises, trying not to let the hesitation in his voice sound. He’s glad Komeada’s not looking at him when he says it. _I can’t be sure I’m really telling the truth. I don’t know what we’ll have to do._

“You’re a teenager though, and I’m not the one in charge of you,” Komaeda continues, as if reading his thoughts. “But from now on, you’ll have to be more careful about it if you don’t want to get in trouble.”

Before Shuichi can ask what he means by that, Chiaki appears from the stairs, cat hoodie pulled over her pajamas. Her eyes light up as soon as she sees Komaeda. She darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Uncle Nagi! How was your doctor’s appointment?”

“I’m in tip top shape,” he says, leaning down to scoop her up and spin her in a circle. She giggles. He's still smiling as they come to a stop, but Shuichi can tell that his eyes have unfocused a bit, and he leans hard against the counter top. Still, he says, “See? All good!”

He lets her down and presses a hand to his chest as if to ground himself. She clings to his free sleeve, burying her head into his hip. “Are you and Dad going to be working a lot again?”

“Yeah,” answers Komaeda quietly. Shuichi feels the weight of what he knows settle on his shoulders as he watches Komaeda gently push Chiaki off of him and hand her a tray with fish, rice, and miso soup. _No matter how much they work, they won’t be able to figure it out._ _How could they?_ “But I talked to him a bit last night. He’s going to be bringing some of it home with him from now on.”

Chiaki lights up, her eyes coming out from the shadows of her bangs- _she really needs a haircut, maybe I should find some time-_ and the dishes on her tray rattle as she rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Really?”

“Really,” Komaeda reassures her, grabbing her shoulders and gently spinning her around towards the living room. He sends a meaningful look towards Shuichi once her back is turned. “He’ll probably be up all hours of the night, so you two will have to behave.”

Shuichi flushes, reaching up for his hat. His hand hits empty hair, and he panics for a moment before he remembers. He ducks his head instead.

Chiaki is almost skipping as she heads towards the living room table, the dishes clattering as they wobble against the tray. She sets it all down in front of Shuichi and looks up. She’s smiling more than he’s ever seen her, but her eyes are still steady and observant as she looks across his face. He tries not to look away. His flush gets worse. But she just smiles even wider. 

“You look prettier than usual today, Shuichi. I think.”

It’s embarrassing, so embarrassing, but he can feel something building up behind his eyes. On impulse, he reaches out to ruffle her hair. “You too. I think.”

Komaeda leaves as soon as they’re set up with breakfast, promising to make sure Detective Hinata gets home for dinner. Shuichi wonders how chaotic the police station is. _It really is impossible though. I doubt they’d be able to pin down the method, even if they found the perpetrator. How could they explain it in court, even if they did know? The charges wouldn’t stick._ He sips on his miso soup as Chiaki sings along to the Junes theme song on the TV. _I suppose that’s why we have to go back in_. 

Something buzzes, and he looks around, confused, until he spots his phone on the end table next to the couch. It’s plugged in. Komaeda must have taken the time to do that after Shuichi had fallen asleep. He sets down his soup to reach for it, finding a text from an unknown number.

_We meet at Junes at ten o’clock! DON’T BE LATE._

It must be Chabashira. He takes a bite of rice as a reply from Kaito comes in.

_i wsnt even wake til u sent this text too early._

Shuichi checks the time. It’s a little after nine o’clock. Usually his alarm goes off at eight o’clock on Sundays, but it’s been turned off. Komaeda must have done that too. He sets down his chopsticks to type out a message of his own.

_How about noon?_

_ELEVEN THEN,_ Chabashira texts back.

_elvn thirty_

_Eleven-thirty?_

_Ugh, FINE_

_u two r up way too earl_ , sends Kaito. Shuichi can imagine him typing with one hand, face still half buried in his pillow. Chabashira, on the other hand, is probably already up and dressed, helping her father open up the storefront. He wonders how they’re feeling. He presses against his chest with one hand. He can just barely feel Lachesis and Thallo. It’s as if he’s viewing them through static. But they’re still there. They press back.

“Chiaki, um,” he hesitates when she turns to look at him. “Would you be okay if I went out later this morning?”

She takes a minute, like she’s really considering it.

“Yes, I think so,” she says, but then she tilts her head and redirects the question. “Will you be okay?”

He meets her eyes as steadily as he can manage. There’s nothing judgmental or calculating in her gaze. It’s just an honest, direct concern. It makes him feel a rush of warmth. He wonders how many times he’s missed seeing this expression in the past few weeks, avoiding her glances or ducking beneath the brim of his hat. He reaches out and flicks a grain of rice from off her face. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

She blinks and then yawns widely. “Good.”

-

He leaves Chiaki napping on the couch at eleven to head over to Junes. It’s way too early to leave, because he ends up arriving ten minutes early. He’s still not used to how close everything is in Inaba compared to Tokyo.

He squints against the fluorescent lights. Everything’s so much brighter without the cover of his hat.  

He decides to wander over to the cafe outside and claim one of the tables. It’s less conspicuous than parking himself in front of the TV until Kaito and Chabashira show up, and it’s relatively nice outside anyway, with a breeze that keeps the sun from being too painful. A real spring day, even if summer is approaching faster by the day. He collapses into a chair, leaning forward to rub his eyes. He’s exhausted. He wasn’t made to be up until three o’clock in the morning. _Back at home, Mom was usually up later than I was_. She had often wondered out loud which one of them was actually growing into an old lady.

 _I should send her another email._ He feels guilty again. _The point of staying here was so that she wouldn’t have to worry._

He keeps his head buried in his hands, entirely spaced out as he tries to draft an email in his mind. Every attempt comes out worse than the next. His thoughts are spiraling into nonsense. _Hi Mom, you remember when you used to read me Alice in Wonderland? Well, have I got a story for you!_ He clicks his tongue at himself. _Hi Mom, I took off my hat finally! It got left behind in another dimension!_ He clicks his tongue again. _Be serious, Shuichi Saihara_.

He’s only pulled back into reality when he hears something land gently on the table in front of him. He lifts his head to find a paper coffee cup. The hand holding it pulls away, and he follows it to find Amami in his Junes apron. His eyebrows are furrowed. There’s a tightness to his eyes that Shuichi can’t remember ever seeing before. It loosens as Shuichi blinks back at him.

“On the house,” says Amami before Shuichi can protest. He holds up a hand, again before Shuichi can say anything. “Hold on a sec.”

He doesn’t quite run off, but it’s a near thing. Shuichi watches him go, confused, before he turns to the coffee. He usually avoids caffeine since it can make him jittery, but, depending on Chabashira’s plan for the day, he might need it. He takes a cautious sip. He expects it to be bitter and gross. That’s how his mom’s coffee tastes. But it doesn’t taste that way at all. It’s surprisingly good, sweet without being cloying, spicy without being overpowering. _Cinnamon?_ He takes another sip.

“Here!”

Shuichi turns back towards Amami’s voice just in time for something to be shoved over his eyes. He flails, nearly knocking over his coffee before the offending item is pulled up again, allowing him to see Amami frowning consideringly at him. “No, I don’t think you’re a beanie person. Too relaxed.”

Shuichi reaches up to pull the fabric off his head, finding a plain gray beanie. Almost as soon as he’s gotten it off, another hat is plopped on top of his head. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking with this one,” Amami says. “Nobody can pull off a fedora.”

Shuichi tips the hat on his head up so it’s not blocking his view. “What are you doing?”

“You forgot your hat,” Amami points out. He leans over to deposit the rest of the hats in his arms on the table, taking the seat across from Shuichi as he searches through them. “And we’re having a sale.”

“Oh, I…” Shuichi pulls off the fedora, only for Amami to frisbee a sunhat on top of his head. It lands perfectly. Shuichi blows out a breath, giving Amami a look from underneath the floppy brim. Amami’s got a hand over his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkling from a smile. _It’s not mocking though._ That keeps Shuichi from immediately pulling the sunhat off his head even as he cranes his neck to look at Amami better. “I actually decided to stop wearing the hat for a bit.”

“Oh yeah?” Amami reaches out, fiddling with one of the beanies. “Well, if you change your mind. No need to write off all hats. Especially when they’re on sale.”

Now that his hand is away from his mouth, Shuichi can see his full smile. It’s fond and sincere. Different from the one he normally wears. Even if it’s mostly directed at the beanie, it makes something tighten in Shuichi’s chest. He thinks he can feel Thallo laughing in there. Distracted, he almost misses Amami beginning to speak again. “At least take the sunhat. On me.”

“...really?” Shuichi pulls it off to look at it skeptically. It feels a bit too... _stylish_ for him when most of his wardrobe consists of jeans and different dark colored t-shirts.

Amami shoots him a thumbs up and nods. “Looks good on you.”

“W-well...uh, thank you,” Shuichi places the sunhat in his lap, just now noticing the huge blue flower on the side. _I’m really struggling to think of an occasion to wear this, but…_ He runs his fingers along the slightly rough material, unwilling to let go of it for some reason. “Oh, thanks for the coffee too.”

 “You looked like you needed it,” Amami grabs a fedora, flipping it gracefully on to his head before moving to stand up again. Even with his neon apron, he manages to strike a sophisticated figure. _Clearly he was wrong about fedoras, because it seems to look just fine on him._ “Anyway, you’re meeting someone, right? I’ll leave you to it.”

“Oh,” Shuichi reaches out across the table before he thinks about it. He brings himself up short of grabbing Amami’s wrist, laying his palm flat on the table near him instead. It had just been instinct. Amami waits. Shuichi fumbles for words. “If you’ve, uh, got time. We could talk a little?”

Amami’s smile smooths out, and he regards Shuichi with a neutral expression. He says nothing at all for long enough that Shuichi feels himself start to sweat. He can feel the backtracking crawling up his throat, but he refuses to verbalize it. _I decided to look at other people more_.  _I decided to get to know them_. This was a good chance to get started.  _Besides...he's almost too fine. Considering..._

Finally, Amami lowers himself back in the seat, his smile returning. It’s his usual one. Now that Shuichi had seen a real one, he can’t help but notice how practiced it looks. “Sure. I can take one of my breaks.”

Shuichi tries to smile back, then he takes a hasty sip of coffee. Amami seems content to let the silence stretch, organizing the hats on the table into stacks based on type and color. Shuichi latches on to the first thing that pops into his head. “So, um. Do you like hats?”

He winces at himself.

“Nah, not my kind of accessory,” Amami says. He lifts the fedora off his head to place it in its correct place and flicks at his bangs. “I’m too vain about my hair.”

Shuichi snorts, glancing up and catching Amami’s eyes. They match his hair almost exactly. “Did you dye your hair to match your eyes?”

Amami looks briefly startled by the question, before his face relaxes into something mischievous. He leans back in his chair, shaking one finger side to side. “Ah, ah, ah, you see, that’s the logical assumption, isn’t it? But, actually, I’m wearing colored contacts to match my hair.”

Shuichi’s face must give away his disbelief, because Amami is suddenly scrolling through his phone and leaning across the table. “Look, see? Look at this.”

He holds out his screen, showing what must be a family photo. He’s surrounded by three girls, all with the same greenish tint to their hair. They’ve all got huge grins too. Even Amami himself has a smile stretching from ear to ear, showing off blue braces. He seems a good few years younger in the photo, maybe twelve or thirteen. He has fewer piercings in his ears too, although Shuichi’s surprised by how many are already there. And, sure enough, his eyes are brown rather than pale green. Shuichi shakes his head slowly. “I still don’t believe it. You could have edited it.”

“You can take out my contacts right now if you want more evidence.”

Amami lifts a hand threateningly towards his eye, and Shuichi hastily waves his hands in disgust. “No! N-no, I can take your word for it!”

Amami sits back in his chair again, looking at the photo himself. His eyes shutter a little as he surveys it. Shuichi takes a sip of his coffee, trying to read the look. There’s something there. _It’s too small to pick up on. But..._

The expression reminds him of his hat somehow. There’s a shield layered on top of whatever’s trying to show itself. He searches for a topic of conversation to draw Amami out again.

“Are those all your sisters?” Shuichi asks.

“Yeah, Some of them, at least,” Amami answers, stowing his phone in his pocket again. Whatever was in his expression vanishes, back behind his regular pleasant smile. Shuichi watches it go regretfully. “I’ve got twelve sisters.”

Shuichi almost spits out a mouthful of coffee.

“Yeah, that’s the common reaction,” Amami chuckles. He spins one of his rings around absentmindedly. “Those three in the photo are my only full sisters. Otherwise, they’re all half-sisters or step-sisters.”

“Twelve…” Shuichi says faintly. 

“Only child?” Amami asks with a teasing lilt to his voice. Shuichi feels color rise to his cheeks and chooses to take a sip of coffee in lieu of answering. This apparently serves as enough confirmation for Amami, who chuckles behind his hand. “That makes sense.”

Shuichi gazes at him over the lid of his coffee cup, taking the chance to observe again. He hadn’t noticed until now, but Amami’s nail polish has chipped a little. There’s a bandage wrapped around his left thumb. Amami’s hands had always been immaculate, every time Shuichi had seen him. The only times he’d seen him without fully painted nails was when he was re-painting them at the info desk. He scratches his own nails on the side of his coffee cup. _That reminds me of something_. “Hey...what’d you mean by, um, a pastel person?”

“Huh?” Amami looks up, as if searching his memories. “Oh, you mean about nail color?”

After he says it, Amami tucks his own hands inside a beanie, as if remembering the state of his fingers. Shuichi watches. “Yeah, you, uh, told me I was a pastel person.”

“It’s just what I think would look good on you,” Amami shrugs. “You need a subtler sort of shade. Something with quiet confidence.”

Shuichi scratches his nails a few more times. He’d never thought of pastel as having _quiet confidence._ He’d never thought of himself like that either. The next question comes out before he can stop it. “What kind of person was Akamatsu?”

Amami’s eyes widen and for a slow, painful second, his expression is entirely open. It hits Shuichi with the force of a punch. _There’s way too much there, I can’t read it at all_ . It's washes over him like a wave, making him sit back in his chair. _Sadness, anger, disgust, anxiety-_ The moment passes too fast. Shuichi’s winded from the whiplash. Amami smiles like it never happened. “I feel like most people would say pink. But Akamatsu was more of a midnight blue or dark purple, I think. Like a night sky. A rhinestone for the North Star, maybe.”

 _Clair de Lune_ plays in Shuichi’s head. 

“She was a lovely person,” Amami says. It’s too rehearsed. Like he’s practicing lines. Shuichi really doesn’t like it. “I’ll miss her.”

Shuichi swallows and musters his resolve. _How did Kaito and Akamatsu approach me when I was like this?_ He tries to remember. _Kaito touched me a lot. Akamatsu talked to me a lot_ . He can do both of those things. He can. _Come on, Shuichi._ With a deep breath, he reaches across the table, tapping at Amami’s fingers with his own through the fabric of the beanie. “...Are you...are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be,” Amami pulls away, his fingers and the beanie slipping out from beneath Shuichi’s touch. Amami places both in his lap instead. “It’s horrible what happened.” 

“Yeah,” Shuichi agrees softly. There’s still a wall up. _I don’t think I can break through it all on my own._ _I don't know how._

Amami’s gaze flitters away. “But I’m staying busy. I’ve got a full day today. I’m covering a bunch of my sisters’ shifts, and we haven’t hired anyone to take over for-”

“Your sisters are making you cover their shifts all day?” Shuichi interrupts. It’s a bit more heated than he had meant for it to come out. There’s an irrational irritation pricking at him and, despite not knowing any of Amami’s sisters, he kind of feels the urge to lecture them. “Why?”

“They’re, uh, upset,” Amami says. He spins the beanie on a finger. “The older ones...the ones who work here really liked Akamatsu. Raimu and Rin had nightmares too, so they need people home with them.”

 _But what about you?_ Shuichi desperately wants to ask, but he feels something in his chest that stops him, faint but definitely present. Lachesis is shaking her head. He wonders if she’d been shaking her head for a while, and he just hadn’t noticed, too focused on Amami. He bites his tongue.

“Somebody needed to cover for them,” Amami shrugs theatrically. “What’s a big brother for?”

The irritation prickles even more, but Shuichi forces a joke into his voice. “Well, I am an only child. I wouldn’t know.”

Apparently this is the right thing to say, because it makes Amami laugh, and it almost sounds natural. “Chiaki might as well be your sister at this point. I’ve seen you two here. You’re good at taking care of her.”

It’s Shuichi’s turn to be caught off guard as his eyes widen. “I-I...I don’t know about…”

Amami’s expression softens affectionately. “It’s a good thing. She really seems to love you.”

Shuichi’s hands go to his hat again, but again they come up empty. Instead he just presses his hands to his warm cheeks. 

“Hey!” a voice cuts in. Shuichi turns around in his seat, flustered, to see Chabashira approaching him, looking disheveled. She’s also got a suspiciously long and skinny bag slung over her shoulders. “I’ve been looking all around for you!”

“Chabashira…” Shuichi trails off, distracted from the bag by a dust bunny hanging from her hair. “You’ve got, um…”

He points, and Chabashira makes a frustrated noise as she spots it and pulls it out.

“Please don’t throw it on the floor,” Amami says mildly. His expression is smooth again, pleasant and nothing more. Chabashira pauses in the middle of doing just that and shoves it in her pocket instead.

“I was just helping Himiko with her chores this morning, and she hasn’t dusted anything above her head in her room in months. No wonder she’s been sneezing all the time.”

Her eyes melt in a way that makes Shuichi feel uncomfortable, like he’s intruding on something personal. “I made her clean one shelf, and she made the cutest frustrated face! I ended up doing most of it after that though,” she twirls a stand of hair around her finger, looking far away. “She’s just so lazy, you know.”

“I-I haven’t actually really met Yumeno. Yet,” Shuichi points out. 

“Oh, we can go by the inn later today,” Chabashira enthuses. “It’s going to be important to the...I mean, it’s important that you get to know everyone in town! Since you live here now. And will for a while.”

She’d remembered Amami only halfway through her sentence when he had stood up to begin gathering the hats. She regards him with an intense suspicion, crossing her arms. “Junes boy.”

“Hey Chabashira,” Amami greets her, entirely unperturbed by the way she’s looking at him . “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

“Th-thanks for the coffee!” Shuichi bursts out. “A-and the hat. I guess.”

“You can give the hat to Chiaki if it’s really not your style,” Amami snags the last of the beanies from the table. He doesn’t look at Shuichi. “And don’t mention it. Just let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be over restocking the fruits and vegetables.”

Shuichi waves a little as Amami goes. _Everything closed off again as soon as Chabashira showed up. I wonder why._

Chabashira plops down in the vacated seat. She’s peering at Shuichi suspiciously, and he draws back from it. _She doesn’t look like she’s about to punch me, but.._ “Wh-what?”

“He's kind of disconcerting, isn't he?” she asks. She shivers dramatically. “Too pleasant. Like he's about to snap at any second.”

Shuichi shakes his head, confused. “What? I don't think-”

"Anyway, I can't say I understand it," she continues. "But I support you."

 _Now I've entirely lost the_   _thread._ Shuichi shakes his head again. "Huh?"

“Never mind,” she says, pulling out her phone. “Now we’ve just got to wait for Momota. He’s always so late. Ugh, such a typical male.”

“Who’s so what now?” asks Kaito from right behind her. Shuichi jumps violently. _How did I not notice him there?_ Chabashira, meanwhile, just scoffs.

“You heard me,” she says.

Kaito scrubs a hand across his head and uses the other to cover a yawn. His hair’s not as ramrod straight as it usually is, with strands jutting out to all sides. Reaching around Chabashira, he grabs the coffee from the table, ignoring Shuichi’s squawk of protest as he takes a large sip. He makes a face immediately afterwards, sticking out his tongue and shivering with disgust. “Ugh, gross.”

“Get your own coffee,” Shuichi says sternly, making grabby hands towards the cup. Kaito lifts it higher in the air, using his height to his advantage.

“Are you even supposed to drink that?” Chabashira asks. “Is it not bad for you?”

Kaito pauses. “Uh, well. Actually, caffeine can help relieve asthma symptoms. I mean, not enough to replace medication or anything, but it’s not bad.”

“I thought it would make you all tight and jittery,” Chabashira continues.

“Well, that’s more an issue for...anxiety,” Kaito takes another sip. “But it actually improves lung function in the short-term.”

Shuichi has given up going for his coffee. He rubs at the tissuey fabric of the flower on the sunhat instead, considering. _Is Kaito going to be okay for today?_ He hadn’t been thinking about it this morning, but that’d been a pretty bad attack in the TV yesterday. Maybe he needs his rest. But he’s not sure if he should say anything either. _It’s his body. And he said he’d work with it better, when he talked to his Shadow yesterday. He’d tell us if he needed rest, right?_

Kaito finally meets his eyes, and whatever he sees in Shuichi’s expression makes him smile. He reaches out to ruffle Shuichi’s hair. “You’ve really got bad bedhead, bro.”

“I-it’s just my hair!” Shuichi protests, batting the hand away. “And you’re one to talk!”

“I’ll tell you guys if I start feeling bad,” Kaito says. He holds the coffee back out to Shuichi. “So...no need to ask or worry about me.”

“You promise?” Shuichi blurts out, capturing Kaito’s hand around the coffee with his own. 

“Promise. Really,” Kaito reaches out to flick his forehead. 

“I’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t,” Chabashira says seriously. Kaito reaches out to flick her forehead and gets his arm twisted instead. Shuichi barely keeps the coffee from falling when Kaito’s hand violently slips out from under his in order to tap at the table in defeat.

“So, uh, are we ready to go?” Shuichi asks as Chabashira finally lets Kaito go.

“Wait!” Chabashira stands, lifting the bag from off her shoulders and reaching into her jacket pockets, coming out with a notebook and- _something that definitely looks like small sheaths, oh god, the bag on her back is a sword, isn’t it, I knew it._ She shoves the sheaths towards Shuichi and the long bag towards Kaito. “I know you two have got your weird magical powers now, but I still snagged these from the store. My mom’s two latest experiments!”

“Y-you can’t just have these out and about!” Shuichi hisses. He snags the sheaths, shoving them in his pockets before anyone can see. “We’re gonna get arrested.”

“Cool!” says Kaito, giving the sword a few experimental swings. It’s in the bag, but Shuichi still winces at it. “Damn, thanks, Chabashira!”

“I also wrote a list of questions I want to ask,” Chabashira continues, flipping through the notebook. Shuichi grabs Kaito’s wrists to get him to stop swinging the sword around. “And where I think we should go next. After we talk to the brat and the robot, we should visit the inn and look around. Might be more chance of clues there than Kaede’s house. Witnesses or something.”

“Plus I bet the police are swarming over there,” Shuichi points out. “The inn is probably abandoned for now.”

“You really think we’ll find something the police didn’t?” asks Kaito, fiddling with the strap on the sword bag.

“We have more context than the police,” Shuichi points out. _But it is a bit of a longshot, I’ve got to admit it._

“Speaking of which, I think we should stop by the station too,” Chabashira continues, snapping her notebook closed and slipping it back into her pocket. “Saihara, you’ve got contacts there. Maybe they’ll tell you something about their investigation.”

“Uh, s-sure.”

_Contacts makes it sound so shady._

“Is there a break for lunch anywhere in there?” asks Kaito sheepishly. Chabashira turns dramatically, beginning to walk towards the indoors again. The effect is somewhat tempered by the dust bunnies still in the back of her hair.

“We can get something to go after the TV.”

Shuichi catches sight of Amami over in the produce section. His shoulders are hunched as he takes apple after apple, stacking them carefully on top of each other. Shuichi turns the sunhat in his hands.

“Saihara, come on!”

“R-right!”

-

Keebo and Oma are waiting for them when they step through the TV. Keebo is seated, their legs folded and the glow of their green eyes darkened while Oma bounces back and forth restlessly around them. He makes a delighted noise when he spots them, but then he freezes and quickly tries to hide his enthusiasm. The twitch of his lips and the jitter of his right leg gives him away, even as he regards them with disinterested superiority. “Oh, it really is you three again. How boring.”

Keebo’s eyes slowly light up, the lenses inside of them focusing and unfocusing before they finally settle on Shuichi’s face. Shuichi tries a smile. _I wonder if they were asleep. Or...recharging. Or if they were just trying to ignore Oma._

“Welcome back,” they say, not sounding happy about it.

“Hey there, purple hair, mean girl, not hat boy,” Oma greets them, making a show of studying his nails. His eyes keep flickering back up at them like he can’t help it. They stay on Shuichi as he spots the sunhat in his hands, and Oma breaks out into a grin. “Oh, you’re hat boy again! Flower hat boy! Flower boy!”

Shuichi hides it behind his back. “Uh, no, this is-”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Chabashira interrupts. She lowers herself to the floor, gracefully landing in a cross-legged posture right across from Keebo. “We’ve got some questions.”

“...I’ve decided that I’ll do my best to answer,” Keebo says. They sound deeply disappointed with their own decision. “But I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

 _I love the hat, Shuichi!_ Thallo exclaims. She’d manifested all on her own and was now perched on Shuichi’s shoulder, fiddling with his hair. _Cute boy too!_

Shuichi flushes. Lachesis had opted to stay inside his chest rather than manifest, and there’s an odd feeling coming from her. She doesn’t answer when he tries to prod.

 _Lachesis is just thinking about something,_ Thallo tells him. _Don’t worry!_

He tries to take the advice. He glances around as Chabashira pulls a notebook out of her pocket and clicks her pen. 

As much as he is curious about what Keebo and Oma have to say, he’s got a lot more questions about the Trial Grounds. He surveys the area, like he might catch a glimpse of one of the three residents. But there’s no beckoning figure, no mysterious door. His vision is steady, the environment stable. Makoto had said that they’d see each other again soon, but...apparently that wasn’t now. _I guess I’ll just have to wait for it._

Shuichi lowers himself to the ground beside and a little behind Chabashira, pulling the sheathed knives out of his pocket to place them on the ground next to him. Oma basically pounces on them as soon as they’re out of Shuichi’s hand, blinking wide-eyed at the engraved designs on the sheaths before pulling out his own knife from seemingly nowhere to compare the length. Shuichi keeps one eye on him- _in case he decides to test how well they stab or something-_ but leaves him to it while listening to Chabashira’s questions.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a place,” Keebo answers bluntly. Chabashira glares, making Keebo shift and their eyes dart around, focusing and unfocusing. “The place where the Shadows live,” they pause, then amend the statement, “The Shadows and us, that is.”

“That’s it?” Chabashira asks, after a few moments of silence.

“I told you I wasn’t going to be much help,” Keebo mutters sullenly.

“Why can we get to it from entering a TV though?” 

“I don’t know,” Keebo shrugs. “It’s a portal. I suppose we exist inside the televisions of your world.”

“Well, yeah, duh,” says Kaito. Chabashira reaches a hand back to whack him in the leg. “Ow!”

“You said people had been thrown in here,” Chabashira continues. She’s furiously taking notes. Kaito finally sits down beside Shuichi, rubbing at his leg with a frown. Keebo’s not paying much attention to any of them anymore, instead watching Oma as he tries to juggle the three knives. Shuichi understands the concern. At least he’d left the two from Shuichi in their sheaths. “How did you know that?”

“Thrown in? Did I say that?” Keebo asks, tilting their head. Their eyes light up, jittering back and forth like they're watching something back. _Paging through their memories?_ After a moment, they shake their head. “Ah, I believe you mentioned that last time you were here. I didn’t know that they were thrown, but I can sense when a new presence enters the area even if I can’t pinpoint them. Did they not just fall by accident?”

“No,” says Shuichi. “We think somebody’s using this place to kill people.”

 _Yanking up flowers before they’re finished blooming_ , Thallo pulls on Shuichi’s hair in her anger. _What a monster!_

Shuichi lifts a finger to tap the top of her head, trying to calm her.

“Oh,” says Keebo. Their tone is flat. Something about it alerts Oma, however, since he looks up, dropping the knives and scurrying over to stand behind the robot again. 

“What a clever and twisted strategy!” Oma exclaims, slamming his hands down on Keebo’s shoulders. The slight wince on his face makes it look like this hurt his palms more than Oma had expected. “Only one as diabolical as I could come up with such a plot!”

“This is serious,” Chabashira growls at him. Oma sticks out his tongue. 

“It has been a while since anyone came here from outside,” Keebo says. “I did think it was strange that so many were coming in rapid succession.”

Shuichi eyes Oma, a question on the tip of his tongue. He’s poking at Keebo’s hair, apparently unconcerned by the conversation once more, although the tension in his shoulders gives him away. He feels Lachesis shake her head, just like she had with Amami. He bites his tongue. Chabashira is moving on anyway.

“Once they fall in,” Chabashira flips a page of her notebook, “how long do they...have?”

“I told you before, did I not? I suppose not clearly. Well, once the presence appears, the fog gets denser, and the Shadows get restless. Right before the fog lifts, they are stirred into a frenzy. And then the presence disappears,” Keebo makes a humming sound. “Well, I suppose their Shadow usually lingers a bit longer. But again, you knew that.”

_The fog...huh…_

“I should mention,” Keebo continues quietly, “that the Shadow from yesterday has completely faded now.”

“Oh,” murmurs Kaito.

“It happened faster than it usually does. Not that I have a large sample base,” Keebo tries a smile. “Perhaps you managed to bring it a measure of peace.”

Kaito twists his hands together, head down. Chabashira’s pen has halted on the page. Silence falls for a moment. Even Oma keeps his mouth shut and his eyes averted, continuing to fiddle with Keebo’s hair. Shuichi takes a deep breath.

“Can you repeat what you said about the fog, Keebo?”

“Hm?” Keebo hums. They nod. “Let me roll back my tape.”

There’s a whirring noise, and their glowing eyes jitter again. They focus on something, and then Keebo opens their mouth. Only, they don’t move it, and their voice isn’t what comes out. Instead, it’s an exact replica of Chabashira’s voice. 

_Once they fall in, how long do they...have?_

Chabashira gives a yelp of surprise. Keebo continues in their own voice, mouth still unmoving despite the words coming out.

_I told you before, did I not? I suppose not clearly. Once the presence appears, the fog gets denser, and the Shadows get restless. Right before the fog lifts, they are stirred into a frenzy. And then the presence disappears. Hmmmmmmmm. Well, I suppose their Shadow usually lingers a bit longer. But again, you knew that._

“What is that?” Chabashira demands. Keebo brightens up considerably, puffing out their chest.

“It’s my recording function!” they proudly declare. “Just one of many useful abilities that my mechanical body houses.”

“But no rocket punch,” mutters Oma sulkily. 

“The fog...” Shuichi trails off. “The fog, huh…”

Kaito nudges him with his shoulder. “What’s up, bro?”

Thallo hits him in the cheek a few times. _What is it, what is it, my flower? I wanna know! I mean, I already know what you’re thinking, but I wanna know! Say it!_

“It was really foggy the night before both victims died, wasn’t it?” Shuichi asks. “I remember it was before Junko Enoshima at least. Detective Hinata wouldn’t let Komaeda walk home in it.”

“Yeah, it was foggy the night before Kaede died too,” Kaito confirmed. He shifts uncomfortably. “My grandparents were reminding me to be careful about my asthma with all the sudden moisture in the air.”

“So?” asks Chabashira, who’s swung around a bit to look at them.

“So, if Keebo’s saying the fog lifts here and the victim goes with it…” Shuichi trails off for a moment before picking up his train of thought again. “Do you think the fog is somehow transporting them between worlds? If it lifts here as it rolls in to Inaba…”

“Ooh, flower boy’s smart!” Oma exclaims.

“Check the weather report leading up to body discoveries…” Chabashira mutters to herself, pen against the paper. “Oh! Since you’re talking, I wanted to ask- you mentioned seeing a girl on the TV, right, new boy? When we first fell in due to your clumsiness.”

“ _His_ clumsiness, right,” Kaito snorts under his breath, shying away when Chabashira kicks a leg out towards him again.

“Yeah,” Shuichi nods, remembering. “My TV wasn’t even on, but it started making these weird staticky noises...and then there was a fuzzy picture on the screen. I didn’t recognize her at the time but...I guess it might have been Akamatsu. It was definitely a girl, at least.”

Chabashira squints at him with horrible judgement in her expression. “And how could you tell that?”

“Just her...her figure.”

“Men and your eyes,” Chabashira clicks her tongue and her pen at the same time. Shuichi can feel the heat rising to his face. _Which is completely unjustified! I can notice it was a girl without leering._

 _Besides, you’re more about that cute boy_ , Thallo comments.

“I am not!” Shuichi squawks out loud, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Not what, a man with eyes?” Chabashira shakes her head disapprovingly. “Lying so obviously is just like a man, too.”

“No, I-I wasn’t…” Shuichi stammers, staunchly ignoring Thallo’s laughter. “I mean, th-that is…”

“When did you see it?” Chabashira asks, apparently choosing to ignore him. Shuichi slumps in defeat. _Probably for the best, I don’t want to explain._

“Late. Like...midnight…” Shuichi says.

“Midnight, huh?” Chabashira mutters, writing.

“Midnight…” Shuichi repeats. Once he said it out loud, and with Thallo still giggling about Amami, something is catching at his memory. “Huh…”

“Hey, don’t repeat me!”

“Midnight…”

“Just spit it out, flower boy,” Oma yells into his ear, making Shuichi jump ten feet in the air. He hadn’t even noticed the boy creeping around to stand behind him. “What’d you realize? Huh? Huh? Keebo, get me a light to shine in his eyes!”

“Kokichi,” Keebo warns tiredly.

“Uh, well, I remembered that Amami mentioned something about a Midnight Channel,” Shuichi says hurriedly. “And that someone in his class said they saw Junko Enoshima on it.”

“And who’s this Amami, huh? Huh? Keebo, quick, a bucket to stick his head in!”

“Kokichi.”

“He’s just a- a friend!” Shuichi manages, scooting away from Oma. Kaito throws out an arm to stop the boy from advancing back on Shuichi. Thallo giggles in his ear, and he swats at her. “He’s a friend.”

“Likely story!” Oma cries, leaning all his weight on Kaito’s arm in an attempt to break through. Kaito doesn’t budge. “Keebo, use your rocket punch!”

Keebo sighs.

“Kaito, you were there, do you remember?” Shuichi asks, trying to get back on topic.

“Huh? Oh yeah, maybe,” Kaito nods, still holding off Oma as the boy pinwheels his arms in an attempt to hit him. “I don’t really pay attention to rumors so I hadn’t heard of it before then.”

“I remember a little,” Chabashira ducks her head. “I might have tried to…” her voice is getting more and more indistinct, “...check it once or twice.”

“Kokichi,” Keebo says preemptively, before Oma can open his mouth.

Chabashira presses forward, her cheeks flushed red. “So! Maybe the victims show up on the TV after they get tossed in!”

“We should probably start checking that regularly then,” Kaito lifts a fist in determination.

“The ideal situation would be for no one to turn up in the first place though. It’s already too late if we start seeing them,” Shuichi points out. “Which means we need to narrow down the victim profile. Try to guess who’s going to be next, I suppose.”

“Well,” Keebo stands and grabs Oma’s arms as he runs past them, bringing him up short. “You can do that on your own. If you’re done with us, I suppose you can head on back to your side.”

 _He really seems uncomfortable with us,_ Shuichi can’t help but notice. _Maybe I should ask-_

“Hey, why are you so uncomfortable with us here?” Kaito asks, apparently having had the same thought. Shuichi winces. _I might have approached that question with a bit more delicacy, but I suppose that’s just who Kaito is._ At least he sounds honestly curious rather than confrontational. Chabashira, for her part, seems unbothered by the brusqueness, her pen poised on the paper. “Like, I get we’re, like, in your space, but you’re always so eager to show us the door. Or, uh, screen.”

Keebo’s eyes whir as they widen, then narrow again, going dim. Oma steps in front of them, hands on his hips. He’s the one who answers. “You see, Keebo is a robot. When all your human essence gets into the air, it’s like an allergic reaction. He breaks out in hives. It’s nasty!”

“Somehow that’s not very convincing when it’s coming from you,” Kaito says.

"It's true!" Oma insists.

“Why doesn’t your human essence get into the air and bother him then?” Chabashira challenges. 

Oma blinks like he’s honestly confused. “Well, duh! I’m not human. Stupid. I’m the king of this world, here to judge your souls against this-”

“You already used that lie when we first fell in here!” Chabashira shouts. She looks like she really wants to chuck her pen at him.

“Oh yeah,” Oma taps his chin theatrically. “I guess part of that is a lie.”

“Part of it?” Shuichi asks. _If the king part is untrue, then he’s not human. But if he’s not human or a robot then-_

“Or maybe all of it!” Oma counters, spreading his arms wide and cutting Shuichi’s thoughts off. “Or maybe none of it!”

Shuichi suppresses a sigh. _Maybe interpreting Oma is a wasted effort._

 _Lachesis said he had a thread at least!_ Thallo offers. _I mean, so do Shadows though, so who knows what that means!_

“It is simply strange to have so much company. In a way, it does make me uncomfortable,” Keebo finally joins the conversation. Their arms move up as if to cross over each other, but instead fall back to their sides awkwardly. “It has only been me...me and Kokichi for so long. And I do not like the thought of someone using this world to kill, especially since I cannot offer much help to you. I apologize if I come off as cold or unwelcoming.”

“Keebo, don’t apologize to them!” Oma circles back around them, peeking over their metal shoulder. “You three should apologize to Keebo!”

“No, they don’t need to apologize,” Keebo shakes their head, reaching up a hand to rest on Oma’s head. “I’ve been an unfriendly host. I can say that I really have tried to answer your questions. There’s simply a lot that I do not know.”

“Apologize to Keebo!” Oma cries, ducking his head away from Keebo’s hand and running behind them instead. He jumps up and down to look at Shuichi over Keebo’s spikes of hair. “Apologize to Keebo!”

“But I do know that I don’t want anyone else to die,” Keebo finishes softly. Oma stops bouncing and shouting. Keebo looks up at the three of them with a pained smile. “So come whenever you’d like, and I can try to help.”

“Thanks, that’s all we ask for!” Kaito says. He claps the robot on the shoulder. Oma tries to bite the hand, but Kaito pulls away too fast.

 _Oh yeah, she couldn’t find the robot’s thread though_ , Thallo adds. Shuichi glances at her, finding her expression troubled. _Don’t know what that means either._

Lachesis pulses, worried, inside his chest.

-

They leave quickly after that, leaving behind the downcast looking Keebo and Oma hanging off their shoulders. Kaito makes an immediate beeline for the cafeteria, and Shuichi and Chabashira follow.

A girl who Shuichi vaguely recognizes from school is working the take-out counter at Junes. Kaito refers to her as “Prez” and Chabashira uses “President Tojo,” and he puts it together. She’s a year older than them. Student Council President Kirumi Tojo.

“We will be having grief counseling offered through the school starting next week,” she says, handing them their immaculately packaged fast food. “There will be an official announcement tomorrow from me, but I’ve been hoping to spread the word as soon as possible.”

“Thanks Prez,” says Kaito, tearing open his bag to snag a few french fries.

“I am glad to see you all out and about today, however,” President Tojo smiles a little. It makes her look like a fond mother. Shuichi is reminded of that email he needs to send his mom again. He hadn’t come up with a good draft before Amami interrupted. _Not even close in fact._ “It doesn’t do good to wallow.”

“No time for wallowing here!” Chabashira declares, snatching up her meal and booking it out of Junes, leaving Kaito and Shuichi to hurry after her. Shuichi catches a glimpse of Amami as they go, still restocking the fruits and vegetables. His back is turned, so Shuichi can’t catch his eyes. He thinks about calling out. _But maybe it’s better that Amami’s not wondering what we were doing or looking at._ Ultimately, he leaves it be and follows Chabashira out instead.

Chabashira stops running once they’re outside, but it seems to take a concentrated effort. Every few steps her pace picks up then slows down again like she’s restraining herself from taking off. She’s eating her french fries three at a time, one after the other. She’s distracted enough that she doesn’t even notice when Kaito starts pulling the remaining dust from her hair. Shuichi nibbles at his chicken. It’s pretty good.

The Yumeno Inn is closer to the edge of town than Shuichi had realized. He can hear the trains going by, but it’s quiet enough to feel soothing rather than annoying. They dispose of their trash and enter the building, and the trains get even quieter. Shuichi casts his eyes around, not seeing any evidence of anyone working or anyone staying. _Or anyone at all_. Absently, he says, “Feels like a location in a horror movie.”

Kaito almost immediately latches himself to Shuichi’s back, crouching down enough so he’s just barely peeking over Shuichi’s shoulders. “D-don’t be stupid, Sh-shuichi. It’s just the i-inn.”

“Don’t insult Himiko’s inn like that,” Chabashira snaps at him, bringing a finger to wag in Shuichi’s face. He almost bowls over Kaito trying to take a step away from her. “It’s showtime! Everybody’s in the stage area watching.”

“Showtime?” Shuichi asks. 

“Yumeno does magic tricks,” Kaito whispers, still huddled behind Shuichi.

“Magic!” Chabashira corrects without looking back.

“Right,” says Kaito obligingly, then immediately whispers to Shuichi again. “Magic tricks.” 

“Either way,” Shuichi jumps in before Chabashira can snap, “if everyone’s busy, this is the perfect time to look around.”

“But I wanted to see…” Chabashira trails off, looking longingly deeper into the inn. She finally clenches her hand around her notebook and shakes her head. “Okay, you’re right. What are we looking for?”

“Any room where there’s a TV, I guess,” Shuichi says, “and the room where Enoshima was staying, if we can figure that out.”

“There’s the main TV room, and the two most expensive rooms have TVs installed too,” Chabashira says. “Enoshima was staying in one of those. That’s what Himiko told me at least.”

“I guess we should split up,” Shuichi says. “One for each location.”

“Sp-split up?” Kaito squeaks. He clears his throat when they turn to look at him. “Um, I mean, don’t we want to make sure we’re thoroughly inspecting everything? Three sets of eyes are better than one.”

“Enoshima’s room is probably the only place we need to look at closely,” Shuichi says. “And even then, I’m not sure we’ll find much.”

“I’ll go to the TV room,” Chabashira offers. “And then I’ll head over to the theater so I can let you know when everyone’s coming out.”

“You just want to watch Himiko’s show,” Kaito accuses.

“I- well…” Chabashira clears her throat this time. “The fancy rooms are on the third floor. Nobody’s staying in them right now, so they should be unlocked. The Yumenos have been complaining about how the police aren’t allowing them to rent them out yet. The whole floor was closed for an investigation.”

“There’ll probably be a lot of demand once they can,” Shuichi mutters.

“What? Why?” Kaito asks, too loud. “Why would anyone want to stay in a room where somebody might have died?”

“...Exactly for that reason...”

_‘It was this stall right?’_

_‘Spooky!’_

_‘Stop it, stop it, you’re gonna get us cursed!”_

_Laughter._

The students at his school had gotten a kick out of what had happened, even after the incident had been settled. It was almost as if got more intense after every anti-bullying assembly or classroom discussion on mental health. Everybody went to gawk. Some kids got caught sneaking in at night to see if they would find his ghost.

Shuichi shakes himself out of it. _Not now._ “Let’s go, Kaito. We’ll be on the lookout for your message, Chabashira.”

Kaito didn’t let go of Shuichi’s shoulders on the way up the stairs, huffing under his breath about Chabashira getting the cushy part of the job. He quieted as they reached the entrance to the third floor, guarded off by police tape. “This is probably illegal, huh?”

“...Yeah. I don’t like doing this,” Shuichi admits. It makes him feel like one of those gawking students. _Even though we’re here for better reasons._ “But I don’t hear any officers. They’re probably focused on Akamatsu today.”

_We should probably get a look at her house too. Kaito and Chabashira might know where the TVs were already. I’ll ask later._

“Right,” Kaito says. He takes a deep breath and ducks under the tape, entering the hallway leading to the rooms. Shuichi follows him.

Both the doors are open, marked off with police tape. The police must have looked into whoever was staying next door as a suspect. Shuichi puts a hand to his chin. _I wonder who was staying there. Was she sharing a room with her sister? Maybe Ikusaba was in the other one. Otherwise, they must have ruled out whoever it was._

“You take left, I’ll take right,” Kaito offers. Shuichi nods. 

“Try to take some pictures,” Shuichi advises. “That way we can all look over them together later. Lots of angles, anything that seems out of place. Uh, and don’t leave any fingerprints. Don't want to get in trouble.”

“Roger that, bro,” Kaito salutes. He takes a deep breath, puffs out his chest, and nearly charges into the room. _Probably before he could lose his nerve._ Shuichi smiles, turning into the room on the left.

It’s immediately clear that this must be Enoshima’s room. There’s make-up and clothes strewn everywhere. _I don’t know much about that stuff, but it all looks expensive. It looks like what Mom puts on when she has to go to an award ceremony or other event._ The mess of the room could be a sign of a struggle, but none of the furniture appears disturbed. It seemed Enoshima was simply disorganized. 

The room itself wasn’t exactly lavish, but it was certainly bigger than what Shuichi would consider the typical small town inn room. And there was a TV, set up across from the bed. It wasn’t as wide as the one they were using at Junes, but there would be enough room to fit in a person, provided they weren’t too broad shouldered. Enoshima had a thin, supermodel frame- she would have fit. Although, it would have been hard if she’d still been conscious. _If she’d been flailing her arms or kicking her legs, she should have been able to knock a few things over or hurt her attacker somehow. But there’s no sign of disturbance like that. She must have already been unconscious._

He wonders if the police ever settled on a cause of death, or if there had been any external injuries at all. He doesn’t remember seeing any blood on the body, but she must have been rendered unconscious somehow. 

_A surprise attack? Let her guard down with someone she trusted? That’d fit her sister at least. It’s also possible someone just snuck in and did it while she was sleeping._

He stashes his sunhat on his head in order to snap a few pictures of the TV and the space around it. Then he covers his hand with the bottom of his shirt and reaches out towards the screen, just as a test. His hand enters easily.

 _It really is all TVs,_ he thinks, looking at the black and white spirals around his wrist. _The one in Junes isn’t special_ . _So the murderer could strike anywhere._

He pulls out his hand, belatedly remembering how it got stuck last time. Thankfully, it comes out smoothly.

There’s not much else to look at, honestly. He gently opens a few drawers to find nothing but evidence markers. The police must have taken a few things back to the station. Notably, however, he finds no evidence of Ikusaba’s presence. She must have been unobtrusive, or she must have been next door. _One way to find out…_

Shuichi steps out of Enoshima’s room, peeking into the one next door. Kaito is testing the TV in the same way Shuichi had. He looks up when Shuichi steps under the tape. “Hey, Shuichi, look. I can do the TV thing now!”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve been in there,” Shuichi muses.

“Or because of Baldr?” Kaito suggests. “We can ask Keebo about it.”

“I doubt he’ll know,” Shuichi points out. “I don’t think he knew we came in through TVs at all before today.”

“Worth a shot,” Kaito shrugs. "The hat looks good, by the way."

Shuichi quickly snatches it off his head. He'd forgotten that he'd put it on. Kaito gestures around broadly to the room. “Anyway, this room is pretty empty. Tons of evidence markers though. And there are bags like this one,” he twists to gesture to the sword still across his back, “so, I bet there used to be a lot of weapons in here.”

“It must have been where Ikusaba was staying then,” Shuichi decides. Kaito’s right- it’s pretty barren, even considering the evidence markers. The bed is neatly made, unlike Enoshima’s, and there are just a few pairs of clothes hanging up in the closet. There’s no evidence of a struggle in here either.

“That’s her bodyguard, right?” Kaito asks. 

“And sister,” Shuichi adds. “They still haven’t tracked her down yet, as far as I know. Like she vanished off the face of the earth.”

“Do you think maybe she got tossed in too?” Kaito suggests.

“But she didn’t turn up dead,” Shuichi shakes his head. 

“She looks like she can handle herself, at least a little,” Kaito points out, gesturing to the bags around the room. “Maybe she got a Persona, just like us. She could just be wandering in there, surviving.”

 _That’s a decent point_. 

“But Keebo would have sensed her presence in there, even if he couldn’t locate it.”

“Ah,” Kaito scrubs at the back of his head, frowning deeply. “But why'd you think she needed this many weapons? I know she was a bodyguard but why swords? Do you think she just liked them?”

_Another good point._

"Maybe we should try to learn more about her."

Both their phones beep.

_Come downstairs fast, she’s on her last trick._

There’s also a blurry picture of Yumeno attached, holding out a top hat, birds flying out of it.

“Why the picture…” Kaito mumbles, but he follows Shuichi out as they make their way hurriedly down the stairs. They skid to a halt back in the lobby just as the sound of a door slamming open splits the silence. The space is suddenly filled with the sound of a crowd’s murmur. They head towards the noise.

Everyone is upbeat and smiling as they leave the stage area. Shuichi lets Kaito go first, sticking close to his back as they move against the current. He’s amazed by the... _well, amazement, I guess..._ that he can feel around him. You’d never have thought anything awful happened yesterday at all. Although, if these were tourists, perhaps they didn’t even know about the latest tragedy yet. Or didn’t care as much as the people who lived here.

“You were so great, Himiko!” Shuichi can hear Chabashira enthusing. He leans over to see around Kaito, spotting her standing in front of the short, red-haired Yumeno, who’s dressed up in the cape and top hat he’d been able to make out in the picture.

“Thanks, Tenko,” she says, sounding tired. “I’m glad it made everyone happy.”

She lowers the top hat over her face, clutching at the brim. But, from this angle, Shuichi can see her biting hard on her bottom lip.

“Hey Himiko!” Kaito calls out. Chabashira and Yumeno turn towards them. Shuichi steps out from behind Kaito’s back now that the crowd has mostly cleared out. “As always, that was really something. Your magic is amazing!”

“It made you smile, Kaito?” Yumeno asks, looking up. If she wasn’t already holding on to the top hat, it probably would have toppled off her head as she cranes her neck to see his expression. “Really?”

“Really really,” Kaito lies.

“I didn’t see you in the audience…” she trails off and shakes her head. “I’m glad Tenko brought you. I just...”

Her expression and tone of voice hardly changes as she talks, but her eyes are darting all over the place. They finally land on Shuichi, who does his best to muster a smile. “Hi Yumeno. Um, I don’t think we’ve really met yet.”

“Nyeh…” she squints at him. “You’re Shuichi, right? The transfer student.”

“Yeah,” he says, deciding to not correct her on the first name. “I really enjoyed the show. The one with the birds was really impressive.”

“Oh!” a tiny glimpse of light enters her eyes. “That’s my newest magic. I had to have Gonta help me with it. I didn’t have the energy for it, so he helped me train them.”

 _Gonta’s the one who works at the clinic, right?_ He thinks about how big Gonta is, then looks at the tiny Yumeno.  They _must make an odd pair._

“I thought about cancelling today,” Yumeno continues, her voice fading again. “But I thought Kaede would like it if I could help everyone smile,” she pulls her top hat down again as she goes on. “And I thought it would...be a distraction…”

Shuichi can’t see her eyes anymore, but he can see how her hands are trembling. Chabashira throws her arms around her, pulling her in. Yumeno moves to neither hug her back, nor push her away. She just lets it happen. “Himiko, nothing bad is going to happen anymore! I can promise that more than ever! And especially nothing’s going to happen to you. My Neo-Aikido will scare any would-be murderers off!”

“Nyeh…” Yumeno sighs, leaning away from Chabashira. “Stop it, Tenko. I’m going to go pray with Angie today.”

Chabashira’s eyes widen, and her arms slowly unwind from around the smaller girl. They dangle by her sides instead, like she’s not sure what to do with them. “Oh.”

“She says the spirits will protect you if you pray enough,” Yumeno continues, still hiding her eyes.

Chabashira scoffs. “That’s stupid!”

Yumeno takes a small step back as Chabashira continues. “Nothing can protect you except your own hands.”

“That’s not what Angie says,” Yumeno answers, without heat or much of anything in her voice. “She says that they’ll watch over you.”

“It’s just an excuse to not do anything!” Chabashira fires back, her voice rising. “You can’t just pray for what you want! You have to work for it. Work hard for it! Why don’t you come to my self-defense class tonight instead?”

Yumeno makes a small, tired sound. 

“Himiko!” Chabashira demands. Yumeno takes a step back

“See you later, Tenko,” Yumeno says. “Bye Kaito. Nice to meet you, Shuichi.”

She pads out of the stage area, top hat still falling over her face. Chabashira watches her go with clenched fists. Shuichi rocks from foot to foot, trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence. He looks to Kaito who holds up a finger, nodding at Chabashira. Shuichi looks back. Chabashira’s clenched fists are slowly loosening, her teeth unclenching. When she’s finally gone entirely slack, there’s a beat of silence. Then she crouches down, hands clutched in her hair, and lets out a small, frustrated scream. Shuichi jumps.

“I yelled at her again! I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, friends fight sometimes,” Kaito says, kneeling in front of her and patting her shoulder. She instantly slaps his hand away and then resumes pulling at her hair. “You can just apologize later. You’ll see her at school tomorrow. Or you could come back here after we go to the police station. She should be done praying by now.”

“Angie’s just...brainwashed her,” Chabashira mutters petulantly. “I don’t know what she did to Himiko, but I don’t like it.”

“Angie...lives at the temple, right?” Shuichi asks. Kaito glances up.

“Yeah,” he answers. “She’s a real-life shrine maiden. Bet you don’t have many of those in Tokyo.”

“I never met one, at least.”

“She’s a crazy con artist, that’s all she is,” Chabashira spits. She stands up, almost knocking her forehead into Kaito’s chin. “Whatever! I don’t want to talk about Angie. We should be heading to the police station. Stop dawdling! God, men are so slow!”

She stalks to the entrance. Following behind, Shuichi watches as the last stray dust bunny drifts off her trailing hair.

-

The police station is busy. Chaotic even. The lobby’s empty, but officers keep running back and forth across the hallway behind the front desk, carrying papers and barking on the phone.  At the front desk itself is a woman with blue-tinted hair, stroking the head of another woman buried in her shoulder. The girl has the same color hair. _Maybe her daughter? Younger sister?_

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the woman croons. The phone rings and she picks it up. “Hello, Inaba Police Department. I’m sorry, we are not currently taking inquiries from the media. There will be a follow-up press conference at the end of the week,” she hangs up, returning to the girl on her shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?” Chabashira prompts. Shuichi jumps. She’s tapping her foot with sharp irritation, apparently still annoyed by what happened at the inn. “Go ask if you can see Detective Hinata.”

“But…” Shuichi trails off, casting his eyes over the crying girl. _Chabashira must be really bothered about what happened with Yumeno if she’s totally ignoring that._

“It’ll only take a second,” Chabashira insists, pushing at his back so that he stumbles towards the reception desk. In an effort to catch his balance, both his hands slam down on the reception desk. Both the women look up at the sound, and Shuichi can feel the color coming to his face. 

“Hello, can I help you with something?” asks the older woman. She must actually be the one who works there. 

“Uh, I’m looking for Detective Hinata,” Shuichi manages. The crying girl has lifted her glasses up on her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m, uh, Shuichi Saihara.”

“Oh, Shuichi!” the woman exclaims. “Detective Hinata has told us all about you.”

“H-he has?” Shuichi asks nervously. 

“I’m Sayaka Maizono, the secretary here,” she introduces herself. “Oh, and this is my cousin Tsumugi. She’s been staying with me for a bit, just like you with Detective Hinata.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tsumugi greets him, apparently having gathered herself. She draws in a large sniff. “Sorry, I’m just...as you can plainly tell, I’m just...grieving.”

“Did you know Akamatsu?” Shuichi asks. Tsumugi sniffs again.

“No, not very well,” she dabs at her eyes a few more times. “But she was always very nice when she came into the store. And I was...a big fan of...Junko’s…”

Her eyes are filling up again, and her lower lip trembling. Maizono sends him a desperate look as she resumes patting her niece on the shoulder. Shuichi casts about for something to say. “You work at a store? I guess I haven’t been there yet.”

“I work at Madame Celeste’s Fabrics,” Tsumugi lifts her arms as Maizono rubs a tissue over her face. “While they are rather plain, I made the clothes I’m wearing right now.”

“Oh, wow!” Shuichi exclaims, too loud. He covers his mouth. “I mean, they just look like what you’d see in a store.”

“Really?” Tsumugi gives a watery smile. “Thank you.”

“You can head back if you want to see Detective Hinata,” Maizono tells him. She leans over to peer at Chabashira and Kaito behind him. “Do you two need anything?”

“We were just dropping him off!” Kaito tells her hastily, pulling Chabashira back by the elbow. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Shuichi.”

“I’m glad to see you out, Kaito,” Maizono says gently. “You too, Tenko. But take some time to yourselves if you need it. And remember not to go out at night. Curfew is going to remain in effect for awhile.”

“You got it Miss Sayaka,” Kaito salutes.

“Don’t forget to text, Saihara,” Chabashira says meaningfully. Shuichi nods, watching as they head out the door. He turns back to the reception desk and smiles. 

“Nice to meet you both.”

“N-nice to meet you,” Tsumugi sniffles.

“Detective Hinata should be in his office. All the way to the right, just before the corner,” Maizono directs him. Her face curls in discomfort in a moment before she continues. “If he’s not there, Komaeda will know where he is. He’s in the office right across.”

“...Thanks,” says Shuichi, heading back into the busy hallway. He frowns to himself. _She doesn’t like Komaeda, I guess?_

The door to Detective Hinata’s office is closed. The window is blocked too, so Shuichi can’t peer in to see if he’s there. Across the hall, however, Komaeda’s door is open. Shuichi pokes his head in.

Komaeda’s scribbling away, head down, headphones on, two stacks of paper framing him. As Shuichi watches, he puts the paper in front of him on the stack on the left and takes another one down from the stack on the right. Shuichi enters hesitantly, bumping against the desk. Komaeda looks up sharply and blinks a few times. He pulls off his headphones.

“Hey, Shuichi,” Komaeda blinks a few more times, looks around like he’s reminding himself where he is. “What are you doing here?”

 _Hoping you’ll tell me everything about the case._ Shuichi can’t bring himself to say that. There’s got to be a better, roundabout method. He remembers something Komaeda had mentioned that morning. “I thought I’d come by and make sure Detective Hinata comes back for dinner.”

“Oh?” Komaeda blinks a few more times, then he finally seems to remember himself. He brightens instantly. “Oh! That’s a great idea! Amazing, Shuichi!”

Shuichi flushes. “R-right.”

“If you just keep knocking on his door, he’ll eventually come out,” Komaeda instructs him, one hand reaching for a new paper. “Don’t be startled if he snaps at you, he’ll apologize right afterwards.”

“Um, actually…” Shuichi hesitates as Komaeda looks up from his work once more. “I-I don’t suppose you could tell me...how things are going…?”

Komaeda taps his pen a few times, face troubled. “...I...really shouldn’t.”

Shuichi eases the door shut a little more, putting on his most troubled face. It comes pretty easily. “I’m not going to do anything with it. I’m just...Akamatsu was really kind. And knowing things helps. I think it’ll help me come to terms with it.”

The words come easily because they’re not even lies. Still, he feels guilty all the same as he watches Komaeda cave. 

“If anything, we’re farther from solving both cases,” Komaeda admits. He absently fills out the paper in front of him and sets it on the completed stack. “We’d settled on Akamatsu’s case as a runaway. And Enoshima, we’d pretty much settled on her sister. It was just a matter of finding them both. But we can’t find any connection between Ikusaba and Akamatsu, even though this must be the work of the same culprit.”

Shuichi nods. He can’t think of anything either, not off the top of his head. Komaeda’s expression has darkened, and he ducks his head. “It’s...infuriating. I can hardly even come up with a theory.”

He finishes off the paper in front of him with a forceful swish of the pen and grabs another. Shuichi swallows, feeling guilty. He hates how familiar it’s starting to feel, even already. He hates hiding things. It's like when he tried to pretend he hadn't broken his mom's camera at age six, but about ten times worse. Unlike then, however, has has to hold it together. “Do you know...how they died?”

There's a long, dark pause.

“...is this really helping?” Komaeda asks. “Or are you just torturing yourself?”

“What?” Shuichi startles, taken aback. Komaeda is looking at him, his eyes suddenly dark and accusing, the harshest look that Shuichi has ever seen from him. Shuichi waves his hands in front of his face hurriedly. “N-no, I’m not...I just wanted to know.”

The look clears. The despondent expression that takes over isn’t much better. “...asphyxiation. Not by strangulation or by drowning though.”

Shuichi wishes he hadn’t asked. He looks down, trying not to imagine it.  

“Not by hanging either,” Komaeda adds quietly.

Shuichi flinches.

But the flashbacks don’t come. Instead, there’s just a sharp, sudden realization that cracks across his mind.

_The fog._

He grabs at his head, trying not to imagine it. He hears Komaeda’s chair move, like he’s standing up to come towards him. Before he can, however, the door swings open and Detective Hinata strides in. He doesn’t notice Shuichi at first.

“Hey, Komaeda, could you get Soda and Nidai back to the inn to look around again. Since they were the ones assigned to Enoshima, they might-” he pulls up short as he looks up and takes in Shuichi. “Shuichi. How’d you get back here?”

Shuichi tries to gather himself. He takes a deep breath. “M-Maizono said I could..come back.”

Detective Hinata casts his eyes between Komaeda and Shuichi suspiciously. Komaeda retreats until his back is pressed against the wall. His eyes are wide and nervous, his fists clenched like he’s bracing himself, steadily watching Detective Hinata as if waiting for something. Whatever it is, it doesn't come. Instead, Detective Hinata sighs and walks up to Shuichi.

Awkwardly, slowly, Shuichi feels himself being pulled into a hug. He blinks into the fabric of Detective Hinata’s shirt. It smells like salt water. It must be the detergent. 

“Uh, listen,” starts Detective Hinata. He clicks his tongue as if frustrated. “I’m not...great at being there for people. Neither is Komaeda. But, uh, we’re, you know. Here for you. Your mom trusted me with you, and she’s got high standards. I’ve got to at least try to live up to them.”

“...Thanks,” Shuichi answers, his voice muffled.

“I know I haven’t been doing the best job of that,” the detective continues. “But I’ll be back at the house more. So we can, uh. Get to know each other or whatever.”

“...Okay.”

Detective Hinata has pulled back. Komaeda has relaxed, easing himself back into his seat. The way he’s spinning his pen and half-watching them is the only thing that gives away his nervous state. He smiles when he sees Shuichi looking at him. “Speaking of which, Shuichi was here to pick you up, Detective Hinata.”

“Huh?” Detective Hinata glances at his watch. “Oh yeah, I guess it is around that time.”

He claps a hand on Shuichi’s shoulder. “Thanks, Shuichi.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“You coming along?” Detective Hinata asks Komaeda. Komaeda brightens for a brief moment, before deflating. He shakes his head firmly. His pen spins restlessly in his hand.

“I’ve got to finish this paperwork,” he says, gesturing to the stack.

“Huh? Paperwork?” Detective Hinata frowns. “Did everyone dump it on you again?”

“Oh no, of course not, I asked around for it,” Komaeda insists. Detective Hinata’s frown deepens, and Komaeda looks away. “This is the kind of stuff I’m best at. Keeps everyone else from having to waste their valuable time on it.”

“Komaeda,” Detective Hinata starts, but he clearly decides against whatever he's going to say. He breathes out a sigh and nods. “Okay. Make sure you get some rest though. Just the paperwork and go home. And take your medicine. You’ve got enough at your apartment, right?”

“Yes, Mom,” Komaeda answers, throwing an exaggerated thumbs up. Detective Hinata’s eye twitches.

“Let’s go, Shuichi,” the detective says, ushering him out of the office. He turns his head to say one last thing back. “Oh, and send Soda and Nidai like I said, Komaeda.”

“Will do.”

They leave Komaeda surrounded by the paper, his head bowed. Detective Hinata has a lot to pick up in his office, although he instructs Shuichi to wait outside, probably to keep him from seeing any evidence. Shuichi takes the chance to shoot a text to Kaito and Chabashira with everything Komaeda had told him. He holds back his theory about the fog. That would probably be better to say in person. When Detective Hinata steps out, Shuichi hastily stows his phone in his pocket again. 

"Ready to head out?"

"Yeah...of course, let's go.

"I, uh, like your new hat. By the way."

"I-it was a gift."

In the air lingers a light mist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, we're just accepting that we're living in alternate reality anime Japan where people grow weird colored hair okay. Give me colored contact Amami. Let me have him.
> 
> Since we've started seeing it a bit more this chapter, I thought it was only fair to share the fic which got me in to Saimami in the first place. Just search up "Cheer Up, Cheer Up, Shut Up" by starrylitme, and I guarantee you will see the light. Or, you know, maybe you will. Either way, it's a good fic.
> 
> Also, while we're talking about Danganronpa fics, join me in checking Himanochi's "Like a Red String of Fate" every day until the next update. I live for this fic, and this fic alone. 
> 
> See you on September 6!


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